CHANDLER 
HARRIS 


THE  BIS  HOP  AND 
THE  BOO  GERMAN 


THE  BISHOP 
AND    THE    BOOGERMAN 


By  JOEL  CHANDLER  HARRIS 


Uncle  Remus  —  His  Songs 

and  His  Sayings 
Nights  with  Uncle  Remus 
Uncle   Remus  and  His 

Friends 
Mingo 

Little  Mr.  Thimblefinger 
On  the  Plantation 
Daddy  Jake,  the  Runaway 
Balaam  and  His  Master 
Mr.  Rabbit  at  Home 
The  Story  of  Aaron 
Sister  Jane 
Free  Joe 

Stories  of  Georgia 
Aaron  in  the  Wild  Woods 
Tales  of  the  Home  Folks 


Georgia,  from  the  Invasion 

of    De  Soto  to  Recent 

Times 

Evening  Tales 
Stories  of  Home  Folks 
Chronicles  of  Aunt  Minerva 

Ann 

On  the  Wing  of  Occasions 
The  Making  of  a  Statesman 
Gabriel  Tolliver 
Wally  Wanderoon 
A  Little  Union  Scout 
The  Tar  Baby  Story  and 

Other  Rhymes  of  Uncle 

Remus 

Told  by  Uncle  Remus 
The  Yankee  Hater,  etc. 


'They  paused  —then  she  pointed  to  the  darkest  corner' 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE 
BOOGERMAN 

BEING  THE  STORY  OF  A  LITTLE  TRULY-GIRL,  WHO  GREW 

UP;  HER  MYSTERIOUS  COMPANION,*    HER  CRABBED 

OLD  UNCLE;   THE  WHISH-WHISH  WOODS;   A 

VERY  CIVIL  ENGINEER,  AND  MR.  BILLY 

SANDERS  THE  SAGE  OF  SHADY  DALE 

BY 

JOEL  CHANDLER  HARRIS 

Drawings  by  Charlotte  Harding 


NEW  YORK 

DOUBLED  AY,  PAGE  &  COMPANY 
1909 


ALL  RIGHTS   RESERVED,   INCLUDING  THAT    OT   TRANSLATION 
INTO  FOREIGN  LANGUAGES,   INCLUDING  THE   SCANDINAVIAN 

COPYRIGHT,    1907,    BY    SUNNY   SOUTH    PUBLISHING  CO. 

COPYRIGHT,  IQOQ,    BY   DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE   &  COMPANY 
PUBLISHED,  JANUARY,  1909 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


"They  paused  —  then  she  pointed  to 

the  darkest  corner"     .          Frontispiece 

PAGK 

"  It  seemed  to  Adelaide  that  it  held 
a  whole  bushel  of  fried  chicken 
and  biscuits "  ....  12 

"The  child  stared  at  her  uncle  so 
seriously  that  he  was  actually  em 
barrassed  "  ,  .  .  .22 

"  Old  Jonas  would  listen  by  her  bed 
side  to  convince  himself  that  she 
was  really  breathing "  .  .  .  38 

"  They  began  to  creep  forward,  mak 
ing  as  little  noise  as  possible  "  .  56 

"  <  You  are  pouting,'  she  said,  *  or 
you  'd  never  be  sitting  in  this  room 
where  nobody  ever  comes '  .  80 

"  '  That 's  why  you  see  these  shoes 

lookin'  like  they  're  spang  new '  "       110 

"  Mr.  Sanders  went  from  the  court 
house  with  a  sweeping  stride "  .  132 


M512447 


THE  BISHOP 
AND   THE    BOOGERMAN 


THE   BISHOP  AND   THE 
BOOGERMAN 

PART  I 

The  old  Pig  went  to  wander, 

The  other  went  far  to  roam 
And,  at  last,  when  night  was  falling, 
And  a  little  Pig  was  calling 

Never  a  one  came  home 

—  Rhunewati's  Battads  of  Life. 

A  DELAIDE  and  I  have  come  to  the 
-/JL  conclusion  that  if  you  can't  believe 
anything  at  all,  not  even  the  things  that 
are  as  plain  as  the  nose  on  your  face  — 
if  you  can't  enjoy  what  is  put  here  to  be 
enjoyed  —  if  you  are  going  to  turn  up 
your  nose  at  everything  we  tell  you,  and 
deny  things  that  we  know  to  be  truly-ann- 
true,  just  because  we  have  n't  given  you 
the  cross-my-heart-and-hope-to-die  sign  — 
then  it 's  your  own  fault  if  we  don't  reply 
when  you  try  to  give  the  wipple-wappling 
call.  And  more  than  that,  if  you  know 

s 


4       THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

so  much  that  you  don't  know  anything, 
or  less  than  anything,  you  will  have  to  go 
somewhere  else  to  be  amused  and  enter 
tained;  you  will  have  to  find  other  play 
fellows.  You  might  persuade  us  to  play 
with  you  if  you  had  something  nicer  than 
peppermint  candy,  and  sweeter  than  taffy, 
and  then  Adelaide  would  show  you  things 
that  you  never  so  much  as  dreamed  of 
before,  and  tell  you  things  you  never 
heard  of. 

Adelaide!  Doesn't  the  very  sound  of 
the  name  make  you  feel  a  little  bit  better 
than  you  were  feeling  awhile  ago  ?  Does  n't 
it  remind  you  of  the  softest  blue  eyes  in 
the  world,  and  of  long  curly  hair,  spun 
from  summer  sunbeams  that  were  left 
over  from  last  season's  growing?  If  all 
these  things  don't  flash  in  your  mind,  like 
magic  pictures  on  a  white  background, 
then  you  had  better  turn  your  head  away, 
and  not  bother  about  the  things  I  am 
saying.  And  another  thing:  Don't  imagine 
that  I  am  writing  of  the  Right-Now  time, 
for,  one  day  when  Adelaide  and  I  were 
playing  in  the  garden,  we  found  Eighteen- 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN       5 

Hundred-and-Sixty-Eight  hiding  under  a 
honeysuckle  vine,  where  it  had  gone  to 
die.  Adelaide  picked  the  poor  thing  up 
and  put  it  in  the  warm  place  in  her 
apron  that  she  keeps  for  all  the  weaklings; 
and  now  when  we  want  to  remember  a 
great  many  things,  both  good  and  bad, 
we  go  back  to  the  poor  thing  we  found 
under  the  honeysuckle  vine. 

It  was  a  very  good  thing  that  old  Jonas 
Whipple,  of  Shady  Dale,  had  a  sister 
who  married  and  went  to  Atlanta,  because 
Adelaide  was  in  Atlanta,  and  nowhere 
else;  it  was  the  only  place  where  she  could 
have  been  found.  Old  Jonas's  sister  had 
been  in  Atlanta  not  longer  than  a  year, 
if  that  long,  when,  one  day,  she  found 
Adelaide,  and  appeared  to  be  very  fond 
of  her.  At  that  time,  Adelaide  had  hardly 
been  aroused  from  her  dreams.  She  may 
have  opened  her  eyes  sometimes,  but  she 
seemed  sleepy;  and  when  she  snored,  as 
the  majority  of  people  will,  when  they 
are  not  put  to  bed  right,  everybody  said 
she  was  crying.  It  was  so  ridiculous 
that  she  sometimes  smiled  in  her  sleep. 


6       THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

But  the  most  mysterious  thing  about  it, 
was  that  old  Jonas's  sister  knew  she  was 
named  Adelaide  almost  as  soon  as  she 
found  her.  Now,  how  did  old  Jonas's 
sister  know  that?  Adelaide  and  I  have 
often  tried  to  figure  it  out  when  we  were 
playing  in  the  garden,  but  no  matter  how 
many  figures  we  made  in  the  sand,  there 
was  always  something  or  other  in  the 
top  row  that  stood  for  No-Time,  and  we 
did  n't  know  how  to  add  that  up. 

One  day,  Adelaide's  father,  who  had 
been  ailing  a  long  time,  became  so  ill 
that  a  great  many  people  came  to  the 
house  in  carriages  and  took  him  away 
so  that  he  might  get  well  again.  Ade 
laide  hardly  had  time  to  forget  that  her 
father  had  gone  away,  before  her  mother 
went  to  bed  one  night,  and,  after  staying 
there  a  long  time,  was  carried  away  by 
the  people  who  had  been  so  kind  to  her, 
only  this  time  there  were  a  great  many 
more  women  in  the  house,  and  some  of 
them  went  about  acting  as  though  they 
had  been  taking  snuff.  And  there  was 
a  very  nice  old  gentleman,  with  a  smooth 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN        7 

face,  and  a  big  ring  on  one  of  his  fat  fingers. 
As  well  as  Adelaide  could  remember, 
this  was  the  Peskerwhalian  Bishop,  and 
he  was  just  as  kind  as  he  could  be.  He 
had  a  pink  complexion  just  like  a  woman. 
He  took  Adelaide  in  his  arms,  and  told 
her  all  about  Heaven,  and  everything  like 
that,  and  then  he  felt  about  in  his  pockets 
and  found  some  candy  drops. 

Adelaide  knew  very  well  that  the  people 
who  came  to  the  house  were  very  much 
concerned  about  her.  They  talked  in 
whispers  when  she  was  in  hearing,  but 
she  knew  by  their  sad  faces  that  they 
were  troubled  about  something,  and  she 
wished  that  they  would  get  over  it,  and 
laugh  and  talk  as  they  used  to  do.  When 
she  went  on  the  street,  the  little  girls  she 
met  turned  and  looked  at  her  curiously, 
and  though  they  were  very  friendly  indeed, 
they  had  the  inquisitive  look  that  older 
people  have  such  a  dread  of.  At  first 
she  thought  her  nose  must  be  smutty,  or 
her  bonnet  on  crooked,  or  her  frock 
torn;  but  when  it  turned  out  that  every 
thing  about  her  was  according  to  the 


8       THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

prevailing  fashions  of  cleanliness  and  cor 
rectness,  she  was  quite  content  to  be  the  ob 
served  of  all  observers  in  her  neighbourhood. 

And  then,  one  day  (can  it  ever  be  for 
gotten  by  anybody  who  was  living  at  that 
time?),  a  lovely  man,  looking  so  much 
like  the  Bishop  that  Adelaide  named  him 
so,  came  after  her  and  said  that  she  was 
to  go  to  Shady  Dale,  and  live  with  her 
Uncle  Jonas.  This  was  Mr.  Sanders  — 
Billy  Sanders,  of  Shady  Dale.  "I  ain't 
sorry  for  you  one  bit,"  Mr.  Sanders  declared 
—  I  was  there  when  he  said  it  —  "bekaze 
the  first  time  I  saw  you,  you  made  a  face 
at  me." 

"How  did  I  look,  and  what  else  did  I 
say?"  Adelaide,  asked. 

"You  looked  this  way,"  replied  Mr. 
Sanders,  puckering  up  his  countenance, 
"an'  you  said  'W-a-a-a!'  " 

"Then  what  did  you  say?"  inquired 
Adelaide. 

"Why,  I  shuck  my  fist  at  you  an'  said 
I  never  saw  anybody  look  so  much  like 
your  Uncle  Jonas."  Adelaide  took  all 
this  very  seriously,  as  she  did  most  things. 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN        9 

It  turned  out  that  she  was  to  go  to  her 
Uncle  Jonas,  and  that  Mr.  Sanders  had 
come  after  her;  and  then,  my  goodness 
gracious!  she  was  so  full  of  anticipation 
and  joy  that  she  was  frightened  for  her 
self.  The  kind  ladies  who  had  had  charge 
of  her  told  her  not  to  be  frightened,  and 
to  be  very  good,  but  she  just  rolled  her 
big  blue  eyes,  and  had  long,  long  thoughts 
about  things  of  which  she  never  breathed 
a  word.  She  started  at  last,  and  went 
with  Mr.  Sanders  on  the  choo-choo  train, 
and  such  a  time  as  the  two  had  buying 
tickets  to  Malvern,  and  laughing  at  the 
people  they  saw,  and  getting  their  baggage 
checked,  and  getting  on  the  train,  and 
watching  the  station  slide  back  away  from 
them  so  they  could  get  a  good  start  — 
such  a  time  has  hardly  been  repeated  for 
anybody  from  that  day  to  this. 

A  man  caught  a  cinder  in  his  eye,  and 
ran  with  such  speed  to  the  water-cooler 
that  he  turned  the  whole  thing  over;  and 
it  came  down  with  such  a  crash  that  every 
body  was  frightened  except  Mr.  Sanders 
and  Adelaide.  Women  screamed,  babies 


10      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

squalled,  and  all  the  time  the  cinder  man 
was  saying  things  under  his  breath,  and 
some  of  them  sounded  to  Adelaide  like 
the  words  that  her  good  friend,  the  Pes- 
kerwhalian  Bishop,  used  in  his  sermon, 
only  they  were  not  so  fierce  and  emphatic. 
The  child  glanced  around,  and  remarked 
with  a  satisfied  smile:  "It  didn't  scare 
Cally-Lou."  "I  reckon  not,"  Mr.  Sanders 
remarked,  although  he  had  no  idea  what 
Adelaide  meant. 

Well,  they  reached  Malvern  in  due 
time,  and  there,  right  at  the  station,  was 
the  stage-coach,  which  was  driven  by 
John  Bell.  Mr.  Sanders  introduced  Ade 
laide  to  the  driver,  who  took  off  his  hat 
and  bowed  very  gravely,  and  after  that 
it  was  only  a  few  minutes  before  they 
were  on  their  way  to  Shady  Dale.  If 
the  choo-choo  train  had  been  fine,  the 
stage-coach  was  finer;  it  was  like  getting 
in  a  swing  and  staying  there  a  long  time. 
There  were  a  few  passengers  in  the  coach, 
and  they  all  appeared  to  be  very  sleepy. 
When  they  nodded,  as  the  most  of  them 
did,  they  fell  about  somewhat  promis- 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      11 

cuously  —  though  Adelaide  did  n't  think 
of  that  word  —  and  made  it  somewhat 
uncomfortable  for  the  child,  who  was 
wide  awake  and  alert.  But  when  they 
came  to  the  place  where  the  horses  were 
watered,  John  Bell  leaned  from  his  seat, 
and  saw  at  a  glance  what  Adelaide's 
trouble  was.  In  a  jiffy  he  had  her  up 
on  the  swaying  seat  beside  him.  It  would 
have  been  a  frightful  position  for  most 
children,  but  Adelaide  thought  it  was  the 
grandest  thing  in  the  world.  She  was 
seated  almost  directly  above  the  two  wheel 
horses,  and  not  very  far  from  the  leaders. 
She  could  see  their  muscles  rise  and  fall 
as  they  whirled  the  coach  along;  she  could 
see  the  flecks  of  foam  made  by  the  harness, 
and  —  well,  it  was  just  glorious !  She  had 
what  Mr.  Sanders  called  the  Christmas 
feeling  —  the  feeling  that  is  ever  ready 
to  become  awe  or  delight  —  and  the  swing 
of  the  stage-coach  kept  her  alternating 
between  the  two. 

It  was  wonderful,  too,  how  one  man 
could  manage  four  great  big  horses,  how 
he  could  guide  them  by  merely  touching 


12      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

one  of  the  reins  with  the  end  of  a  finger; 
and  then,  when  John  Bell  gave  his  long 
whip  wide  play,  sending  it  through  the 
air  with  a  swish,  and  bringing  it  down  as 
gently  as  a  breath  of  wind  on  the  back 
of  the  horse  he  desired  to  warn,  Adelaide 
could  have  screamed  with  delight.  There 
was  a  half-way  house  where  the  horses 
were  changed,  and  when  the  coach  stopped 
for  that  purpose,  most  of  the  passengers 
went  into  a  near-by  inn  for  their  dinner. 
One  or  two  of  them,  however,  had  brought 
a  lunch  along.  One  of  them  offered  Ade 
laide  a  share,  saying:  "Won't  you  have 
some  of  my  dinner,  Sissy?"  Her  mother 
had  called  her  many  fond  names,  but 
nothing  like  that.  John  Bell  glanced  at 
her,  and  the  expression  on  the  little  face 
opened  his  eyes.  "No,  I  thank  you," 
he  replied,  "she'll  go  snucks  wi'  me." 
She  snuggled  up  to  John  Bell  —  "Did 
you  hear  him?"  she  asked;  "he  called 
me  Sissy."  "I  heard  him,"  said  John 
Bell;  "I  heard  every  word,  and  just  how 
he  said  it." 

The   lunch-basket  that  John  Bell  found 


"  It  seemed  to  Adelaide  that  it  held  a  whole  bushel 
of  fried  chicken  and  biscuits  " 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      13 

under  the  seat  was  a  wonder  to  see.  It 
seemed  to  Adelaide  that  it  held  a  whole 
bushel  of  fried  chicken  and  biscuits  with 
yellow  butter  on  the  inside  of  each. 
"Now,"  said  John  Bell,  "there  ain't  enough 
vittles  here  for  one,  much  less  six."  "  Six ! " 
cried  Adelaide.  'Yes'm;  you  and  your 
self,  Mr.  Sanders  and  his  self,  and  me 
and  myself."  "Ef  you're  countin'  me 
in,"  remarked  Mr.  Sanders,  "  jest  add  three 
more  figgers  to  the  multiplication  table." 
"And  then,"  said  Adelaide  very  solemnly, 
"there's  Cally-Lou  and  herself.  Cally- 
Lou's  herself  is  just  big  enough  to  be 
counted,"  she  went  on,  "but  Cally-Lou 
is  bigger  than  I  am.  She  's  sitting  right 
here  by  me;  you  could  see  her  if  you  could 
turn  your  head  quick  enough.  She  dodges 
when  she  thinks  anybody  is  going  to  look 
at  her,  because  she  is  neither  black  nor 
white;  she 's  a  brown  girl  with  straight 
black  hair  that  wavies  when  you  brush  it." 

"Why,  of  course,"  said  John  Bell;  "I  'd 
know  her  anywhere.  I  was  afraid,  once 
or  twice,  that  I  'd  put  out  her  eye  with  my 
whip-lash." 


14     THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

"  Oh,  did  you  really  see  Cally-Lou  ?" 
cried  Adelaide,  with  an  ecstatic  smile. 

"Didn't  you  hear  what  he  said  about 
the  vittles  ?"  remarked  Mr.  Sanders.  "Do 
you  think  he  'd  'a'  said  that  ef  he  'd  'a' 
seed  only  us  three  ?  I  '11  say  this  much 
for  John  Bell  before  I  eat  all  his  chicken 
an*  biscuits  —  he 's  nuther  stingy  ner 
greedy.  Now,  then,"  he  went  on,  "jest 
shet  you  eyes,  an'  grab,  bekaze  the  one 
that  grabs  the  quickest  will  git  that  big 
hind  leg  there.  My  goodness !  I  can  shet 
my  eyes  an'  see  it!"  Whereupon  Mr. 
Sanders  and  John  Bell  closed  their  eyes, 
and  reached  into  the  basket,  and  one 
drew  a  back  and  a  biscuit,  and  the  other 
grabbed  a  neck  and  a  biscuit.  '  We  dassent 
shet  our  eyes  any  more,"  remarked  Mr. 
Sanders,  "bekaze  if  we  do,  Cally-Lou 
will  git  all  the  chicken!" 

Talk  about  picnics  or  barbecues,  or 
parties  where  you  have  to  wear  your  best 
clothes,  or  receptions  where  you  have 
tea-cakes  and  ice-cream!  Why,  this  ban 
quet  on  top  of  the  stage-coach,  where  no 
strange  person  could  look  over  your  shoul- 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      15 

der,  and  no  one  tell  you  not  to  eat  with 
your  fingers,  and  not  to  tuck  your  napkin 
under  your  chin,  like  —  like  I  don't  know 
what  —  why,  it  was  just  simply  a  true 
fairy  story,  not  one  of  the  make-believe 
kind  —  the  kind  that  grows  out  of  the 
weariness  of  invention. 

The  feast  was  over  much  too  soon, 
though  all  had  had  much  more  than  was 
good  for  them.  John  Bell  covered  the 
treasure  basket  with  a  towel,  and  stowed 
it  away  in  the  big  hollow  place  under  the 
seat;  then  he  beckoned  to  a  negro  who 
was  helping  with  the  horses.  "Run  down 
to  the  spring  and  fetch  us  some  water, 
and  be  certain  to  get  it  out  of  the  north 
side  of  the  spring,  where  it  is  cold  and 
sweet."  The  negro  did  this  in  a  jiffy, 
and  such  water  Adelaide  had  never  before 
tasted.  There  was  a  whole  bucketful, 
too.  When  they  had  all  drunk  their  fill, 
Adelaide  looked  at  Mr.  Sanders  and  John 
Bell  with  a  frown.  "What  can  we  do 
for  you  now,  ma'am?"  Mr.  Sanders 
asked. 

"Why,  I  want  you  to  turn  your  heads 


16      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

away.  Cally-Lou  says  she  is  nearly  fam 
ished  for  water,  and  she  won't  drink  when 
any  one  is  looking." 

All  this  being  done,  everybody  was  ready 
to  go.  Mr.  Sanders  got  in  the  stage, 
declaring  that  he  must  have  his  own  warm 
place,  John  Bell  took  the  reins  that  were 
handed  to  him  by  the  hostlers,  gave  a  harm 
less  swish  with  his  long  whip,  and  away 
they  went  to  Shady  Dale.  It  was  all  so 
strange,  and  so  pleasant  that  Adelaide 
could  have  wished  the  journey  to  con 
tinue  indefinitely.  But  after  a  while,  the 
houses  they  passed  became  larger  and 
more  numerous,  and  then  the  stage-coach 
made  its  appearance  on  the  public  square 
that  was  one  of  the  features  of  Shady  Dale. 
It  rolled  and  swung  toward  the  old  tavern, 
and  just  when  Adelaide  thought  that  John 
Bell  was  going  to  drive  right  into  the  house 
for  her  benefit,  he  gave  a  little  twist  to  his 
wrist,  and  the  leaders  swung  around. 
Even  then  it  seemed  that  they  would 
assuredly  run  headlong  into  the  big  mul 
berry  tree,  and  trample  to  death  the  man 
who  was  leaning  against  it  in  a  chair;  but 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      17 

just  as  the  leader  was  about  to  plant  his 
forefeet  in  the  man's  bosom,  John  Bell 
sent  another  signal  down  the  tightly  held 
reins,  and  the  leaders  swung  around  until 
the  child  could  look  right  into  their  tired 
faces.  And,  oh,  the  thrill  of  it!  Adelaide 
felt  that  she  could  just  hug  John  Bell, 
but  the  man  who  had  made  such  a  narrow 
escape  from  the  horses'  feet  had  an  entirely 
different  view  of  the  matter. 

"You  shorely  must  be  tryin'  to  show 
off,"  he  growled  to  John  Bell;  "an'  what 
for,  I  'd  like  to  know  ?  The  next  time 
you  kill  me,  I  '11  have  the  law  on  you!" 

"Quite  so,"  remarked  John  Bell,  with 
a  grin  that  showed  his  white  teeth.  "But 
I  want  you  to  know  that  I  've  got  company; 
let  folks  that  ain't  got  company  look  out 
for  themselves!  Have  you  seen  Mr.  Jonas 
Whipple  around  here?" 

'You  don't  want  to  run  over  old  Jonas, 
do  you?"  replied  the  man.  "All  I've 
got  to  say  is,  jest  try  it!  Old  Jonas  is  a 
lot  tougher  than  what  I  am." 

"I'd  run  over  him  in  a  minnit  if  it  would 
give  my  company  any  pleasure,"  said  John 


18     THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

Bell.  "I've  got  a  package  for  him  that 
come  all  the  way  from  Atlanta,  an'  I  reckon 
the  best  thing  to  do  is  to  take  it  right 
straight  to  his  house.  It 's  wropped  in 
cloth,  an'  he  's  got  to  give  me  a  receipt 
for  it!" 

"Oh,  I  know!"  cried  Adelaide,  pouting 
a  little;  "you  are  talking  about  me!" 

"Drive  on!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Sanders,  who 
was  sitting  on  the  inside  of  the  stage-coach. 
"I  '11  have  my  ride  out  ef  I  have  to  set  in 
here  ontell  to-morrer." 

"Quite  so!"  exclaimed  John  Bell,  and 
with  that,  he  signalled  the  leaders,  all  the 
other  passengers  having  got  out  by  this 
time,  and  in  less  than  no  time  the  coach 
was  whirling  in  the  direction  of  old  Jonas 
Whipple's  house. 

I  'd  like  to  show  you  how  the  neighbours 
came  to  their  doors  and  stared;  I  can't 
describe  it  on  paper,  but  if  you  were  sitting 
where  you  could  see  my  motions  and 
gestures  you  'd  laugh  until  you  cried.  The 
way  the  horses  swept  down  that  long  red 
hill,  leading  from  the  tavern  to  old  Jonas's, 
was  assuredly  a  sight  to  see;  and  not  only 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      19 

the  neighbours  saw  it.  Old  Jonas  saw 
it,  and  Lucindy  saw  it,  too.  Lucindy  tried 
hard  to  be  two  persons  that  day;  she'd 
look  at  old  Jonas  and  frown,  and  then 
she  'd  look  at  the  stage-coach  and  smile 
all  over  her  face.  She  was  mad  on  one 
side  and  glad  on  the  other  —  mad  because 
old  Jonas  was  n't  as  excited  as  she  was, 
and  glad  because  the  child  was  coming. 
But  old  Jonas  had  a  very  good  reason 
for  his  lack  of  excitement;  he  had  such 
a  cold  that  he  could  hardly  talk  for  cough 
ing,  and  such  a  bad  cough  that  he  could 
hardly  cough  for  wheezing.  And  before 
he  would  come  to  the  door,  he  wrapped 
his  neck  in  a  piece  of  red  flannel.  He 
tried  to  smile  when  he  saw  Adelaide  waving 
her  flower-like  hand,  and  the  smile  came 
near  strangling  him.  But  Lucindy,  the 
cook,  was  more  than  equal  to  the  emergency; 
she  whipped  off  her  big  apron  and  waved 
it  up  and  down  at  arm's  length,  which 
was  quite  as  hearty  a  welcome  as  any 
one  would  wish  to  have.  I  am  sure  that 
no  one  else  ever  received  such  a  welcome 
at  old  Jonas's  door.  Up  swept  the  stage, 


20      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

around  it  swung,  and  then,  "All  out  for 
Whipple's    Cross-roads ! ' ' 

Mr.  Sanders  had  his  head  out  of  the 
window,  and  saw  Adelaide  lift  her  lovely 
face  and  kiss  John  Bell.  It  must  have 
been  a  great  strain  on  John  Bell  to  stoop 
so  low,  for  when  he  straightened  himself 
he  was  very  red  in  the  face. 

"That,"  said  Mr.  Sanders,  who  was  a 
close  observer,  "is  the  first  time  anybody 
has  kissed  John  Bell  since  he  was  a  baby. 
That 's  what  makes  him  sweat  so!" 

"Much  you  know  about  such  things," 
exclaimed  John  Bell,  mopping  his  face 
with  a  red  bandana.  Nobody  knows  to 
this  day  how  Lucindy  managed  to  take 
the  trunk  from  the  boot  of  the  stage,  and 
place  it  in  the  veranda  in  time  to  run  back 
and  seize  Adelaide  and  pull  her  through 
the  window  of  the  coach  before  any  one 
could  open  the  door.  But  such  was  the 
feat  she  performed  in  her  excitement. 
Mr.  Sanders  appeared  to  be  so  surprised 
that  he  could  do  nothing  but  pucker  up 
his  face,  pretending  he  was  crying,  and 
yell  out:  "  Lucindy 's  took  Miss  Adelaide, 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      21 

an'  now  who 's  gwine  to  take  me  out  'n 
this  stage.  Ef  you  don't  come  an'  git  me, 
Jonas,  I  '11  be  took  off  by  John  Bell,  an' 
you  won't  never  see  me  no  more!"  Old 
Jonas  looked  at  Mr.  Sanders  as  if  he  were 
in  a  dream,  and  had  not  heard  aright. 
Observing  this,  Mr.  Sanders  kept  up  the 
pretence,  and  he  cried  so  loudly,  and  to 
such  purpose,  that  the  neighbours  on  each 
side  of  the  street  came  running  to  their 
front  doors  to  see  what  the  trouble  was. 
And  then  old  Jonas  became  furiously 
angry.  "Take  him  away,  John  Bell!" 
he  commanded;  "I  hold  you  responsible! 
Confound  you!  why  don't  you  drive  on." 
With  that  he  went  into  the  house. 

Mr.  Sanders  cared  not  a  whit  for  old 
Jonas's  irritation,  and  so  he  alighted  from  the 
coach  and  followed  the  rest  into  the  house. 
He  was  just  in  time  to  hear  Adelaide  begin 
her  course  of  instruction  to  old  Jonas. 

"  Nunky-Punky,"  said  she,  very  sol 
emn,  "why  didn't  you  wait  for  Mr. 

oh,  I  know  who  he  is,  he  's  the  Pesker- 
whalian  Bishop!  —  why  didn't  you  wait 
for  the  Bishop?" 


22      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

"Much  he  looks  like  a  bishop!"  replied 
old  Jonas,  when  he  could  control  his 
cough.  "Did  you  ever  hear  a  bishop 
boo-hooing  and  carrying  on  in  that  way?" 

The  child  stared  at  her  uncle  so  seriously 
that  he  was  actually  embarrassed.  He 
rubbed  his  hand  over  a  sharp  chin  that 
needed  a  razor  very  badly,  and  really 
forgot  that  he  was  angry  with  Mr.  Sanders. 
Then  something  quite  shocking  occurred 
to  Adelaide's  nimble  mind. 

"Oh,  Nunky-Punky!"  she  cried,  "you 
did  n't  kiss  me  when  I  corned,  and  every 
body  said  you  would,  cause  I  asked  'em 
particular." 

"Honey,"  said  Mr.  Sanders,  "le*  me 
stand  in  Nunky-Punky's  shoes  while  the 
kissin'  is  gwine  on,  bekaze  he  ain't  staved 
in  two  days,  and  his  whiskers  '11  scratch 
your  face." 

But  Adelaide  ran  to  old  Jonas,  and 
held  out  her  little  arms  to  be  lifted  up. 
Jonas  hesitated;  he  looked  at  Lucindy, 
then  at  Mr.  Sanders,  and  finally  allowed 
his  glance  to  fall  on  the  sweetly  solemn 
face  of  the  child.  He  tried  to  say  some- 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      23 

thing,  to  make  some  excuse,  but  he  could 
think  of  none.  He  was  not  only  dread 
fully  embarrassed,  he  was  actually  ashamed. 
Not  in  forty  years  had  any  one  ever  asked 
to  kiss  him  and,  whether  you  count  it  back 
ward  or  forward,  forty  years  is  a  long 
time.  Mr.  Sanders  tried  to  pilot  him 
through  the  deep  water  —  so  to  speak  — 
in  which  he  found  himself.  "Sit  down, 
Jonas,  and  take  Miss  Adelaide  on  your 
knee,  an'  let  the  thing  be  done  right. 
Kinder  shet  your  eyes  an'  pucker  your 
mouth,  and  she  '11  do  the  rest." 

"Sanders,"  said  old  Jonas,  bristling  up 
again,  "if  you  really  want  to  hurt  my 
feelings  just  say  so.  You  have  no  real 
delicacy  about  you.  How  do  you  know 
some  one  has  n't  told  the  little  girl  that  it 
is  her  duty  to  pretend  to  want  to  kiss  her 
uncle,  whether  she  wants  to  or  not  ?  Tell 
me  that!"  Old  Jonas's  eyes  glistened 
under  his  overhanging  brows,  and  if 
"looks"  could  kill  a  man,  Mr.  Sanders 
would  have  fallen  down  dead.  Adelaide 
dropped  her  arms,  and  stood  close  to  old 
Jonas's  knee,  looking  quite  forlorn. 


«4      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

"Well,  come  on,  Cally-Lou,  Uncle  Jonas 
has  a  very  bad  cold  and  a  headache,  and 
we  must  n't  bother  him." 

"No,  no,  no!"  cried  old  Jonas,  screw 
ing  up  his  face  until  it  looked  like  the  seed- 
ball  of  a  sweet-gum  tree.  "There  are 
some  things  a  man  has  to  do  whether  he  's 
used  to  them  or  not.  Come  here  and  kiss 
me  if  you  really  want  to."  Adelaide  turned, 
tossing  her  head  as  if  she  were  growner 
than  a  grown  woman,  and  went  toward 
old  Jonas  with  the  queerest  little  smile 
ever  seen.  Her  feelings  had  been  dread 
fully  hurt,  but  not  a  quiver  of  mouth  or 
eyelid  disclosed  the  fact,  and  only  Cally- 
Lou  knew  it.  Old  Jonas  sat  down  in  his 
favourite  chair,  and  took  the  child  on 
his  knee.  If  he  had  to  be  a  martyr,  he 
would  go  through  the  performance  as 
gracefully  as  he  could.  Adelaide  made 
great  preparations.  She  felt  of  his  chin 
with  one  hand,  while  she  threw  the  other 
around  his  neck.  She  seemed  to  know 
instinctively  that  old  Jonas  was  rather 
timid  when  it  came  to  kissing  people,  and 
she  went  to  his  rescue.  "Now,  I  'm  not 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      25 

going  to  kiss  him  until  all  you  people  turn 
your  heads  away.  No,  that  won't  do! 
You  've  got  to  turn  clean  around,  and  look 
the  other  way!"  She  waited  until  she  had 
been  obeyed,  and  then,  as  nimbly  as  a 
humming-bird  kisses  a  flower,  she  kissed 
the  grim  old  man,  and  slid  from  his  knee. 

"Ten-ten-double-ten-forty-five-fifteen!" 
exclaimed  Mr.  Sanders.  "All  eyes  open! 
I  'm  gwine  to  peep!" 

Adelaide  laughed  joyously,  and  when 
Mr.  Sanders  turned  around  she  was  stand 
ing  in  the  middle  of  the  floor. 

"You're  It!"  he  said  to  Jonas.  Then 
the  smile  disappeared  from  his  face. 
"Lucindy,"  he  said,  "do  you  reckon  Mr. 
Whipple  would  buss  me  ef  I  was  to  ast 
him?"  The  question  was  a  little  too 
much  for  Lucindy,  and  she  disappeared 
in  the  direction  of  the  kitchen,  bent  double 
with  laughter. 

"Sanders,  why  do  you  make  a  joke 
out  of  everything  ?  Did  you  ever  reflect 
that  there  is  somewhere  a  limit  to  some 
things?" 

"I  certainly  do,   Jonas,  an'  you  come 


26      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

mighty  nigh  reachin'  it  wi'  me  awhile  ago. 
Ef  you  had  n't  'a'  let  that  child  kiss  you 
when  she  wanted  to,  I  'd  'a'  went  out  'n 
yon'  door  an'  I'd  'a'  never  darkened  it 
ag'in  —  not  in  this  world." 

"Well,  your  common  sense  should  tell 
you,  Sanders,  that  people  ain't  made 
alike.  What  you  are  keen  to  do  I  have 
no  appetite  for,  and  what  I  'm  fond  of, 
you  have  no  relish  for.  That 's  plain 
enough,  I  reckon." 

"Ef  that 's  a  conundrum,  Jonas,  I  thank 
my  Maker  that  the  answer  is  plain,  yes!" 

Old  Jonas  looked  hard  at  Mr.  Sanders 
as  though  he  wanted  to  say  something. 
He  stuck  out  his  chin,  and  looked  toward 
the  ceiling;  then  he  looked  at  the  floor, 
and  began  to  rub  his  hands  briskly  together. 
Then  his  thought  came  out:  "Sanders," 
he  said,  almost  hospitably,  "suppose  you 
stay  to  supper  to-night;  or,  if  you  can't 
stay  until  supper's  ready,  suppose  you 
come  back  to  supper?  How  will  that 
suit  you?  I " 

"Well,  I'll  tell  you  the  truth,  Jonas: 
ef  you  think  you  need  me  for  to  pertect 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      27 

you  from  that  child,  you  're  mighty  much 
mistaken.  I  don't  believe  that  Miss  Ade 
laide  would  harm  a  ha'r  on  your  head,  few 
as  you  've  got." 

"Nonsense,  Sanders!  you  twist  every 
mortal  thing  around  in  your  mind,  and 
you  are  never  happy  until  you  set  your 
best  friends  up  as  a  target  for  your  folly. 
Answer  my  question:  will  you  take  sup 
per  with  —  with  us  ?" 

Mr.  Sanders  regarded  old  Jonas  with 
real  interest.  His  mild  but  fearless  blue 
eyes  studied  the  other's  face  as  if  they 
would  read  there  the  solution  to  some 
mystery.  :<Yes,  Jonas;  I  '11  not  stay  to 
supper,  but  I  '11  come  back  in  time  for 
supper.  But  don't  publish  it;  ef  the  public 
know  'd  anything  about  it,  they  might 
think  I  was  tryin'  for  to  wheedle  you  out 
of  a  loan,  an'  then  what  'd  happen  ?  Why, 
all  my  creditors  would  come  swarmin' 
aroun'  me  like  gnats  aroun'  a  sleepin'  dog. 
I  could  jest  as  well  stay  right  here  tell 
supper  time,  but  I  'm  oblidze  for  to  git 
out  an'  walk  about  a  little,  an'  git  the 
amazement  out  'n  my  system.  Off  an* 


28      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

on,  Jonas,  I  've  been  a-knowin'  you  mighty 
nigh  thirty  year,  an  this  is  the  fust  time 
you  've  ast  me  to  take  a  meal  in  your  house. 
I  feel  as  funny  as  a  flushed  pa'tridge!" 

Jonas  stalked  out  of  the  room  pretend 
ing  to  be  very  angry,  but  he  began  to 
chuckle  as  soon  as  his  back  was  turned. 
"  Sanders  is  out  of  his  sphere,"  he  said  to 
himself.  "More  than  half  the  time  he 
should  have  a  big  tent  over  his  head  and 
be  rigged  up  like  a  clown."  Mr.  Sanders 
watched  the  door  through  which  old 
Jonas  had  gone,  as  if  he  expected  him  to 
come  back.  Then  he  called  out  to  him: 
"Jonas!  be  shore  to  have  some  thin'  for 
supper  that  me  an'  that  child  can  eat!" 

Old  Jonas  heard  the  voice  of  Mr.  San 
ders,  but  he  paid  no  attention  to  its  purport. 
He  went  on  into  the  kitchen  where  Adelaide 
and  Lucindy  were  having  a  conversation. 
He  tried  to  smile  at  the  child,  but  he  realised 
that  his  face  was  not  made  for  smiles. 
It  may  have  been  different  in  the  days 
of  his  boyhood,  and  probably  was,  but 
since  he  had  devoted  himself  to  the  heart 
less  problems  that  beset  a  man  who  is 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      29 

money-mad,  the  facial  muscles  that  smiling 
brings  into  play  had  become  so  set  in 
other  directions,  and  had  been  so  frequently 
used  for  other  purposes,  that  they  made 
but  a  poor  success  of  a  smile.  Realising 
this,  he  turned  to  Lucindy,  with  a  business 
like  air.  "Lucindy,  Mr.  Sanders  is  com 
ing  to  supper;  I  reckon  he  knows  how 
you  can  cook,  for  he  jumped  at  the  invita 
tion.  And  then  there 's  the  little  girl; 
we  must  have  something  nice  and  sweet 
for  her,"  he  went  on. 

"No,  Mr.  Jonas!"  Lucindy  exclaimed; 
"nothin'  sweet  fer  dis  chile;  des  a  little 
bread  an'  milk,  er  maybe  a  little  hot-water 
tea." 

"Well,  you  know  about  that,"  remarked 
Jonas,  with  a  sigh;  "we  shall  have  to  get 
a  nurse  for  the  child,  I  reckon." 

Lucindy  drew  a  deep  breath.  "A  nuss 
fer  dat  chile!  Whar  she  gwineter  stay 
at  ?  Not  in  dis  kitchen !  not  in  dis  house ! 
not  on  dis  lot!  No,  suh!  Ef  she  do,  she'll 
hafter  be  here  by  herse'f.  I  '11  drive  her 
off,  an'  den  you  '11  go  out  dar  on  de  porch 
an'  call  her  back;  an'  wid  dat,  I  '11  say 


30      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

good  bye  an'  f ar'-you-well !  Yes,  la!  I 
kin  stan'  dis  chile,  here,  an'  I  kin  'ten'  ter 
what  little  ten'in'  ter  she  '11  need  —  but 
a  new  nigger  on  de  place!  an'  a  triflin' 
gal  at  dat!  No  suh,  no  suh!  you  '11  hafter 
scuzen  me  dis  time,  an'  de  nex'  time,  too." 

Old  Jonas  walked  from  one  end  of  the 
kitchen  to  the  other,  his  face  puckered  up 
with  anger,  and  looking  as  if  he  were  on 
the  point  of  bursting  into  tears.  "Well, 
by  the  livin'  Jimminy!  can't  I  do  what 
I  please  in  my  own  house  ?  Can't  I  get 
my  own  niece  a  nurse  if  I  want  to  ?" 

Lucindy  placed  both  hands  under  her 
apron,  and  looked  as  if  she  were  swelling 
up.  "Yasser,"  she  exclaimed;  "yasser, 
an'  yasser,  an'  yasser  An'  whiles  you  're 
gittin'  a  nurse,  don't  let  it  'scape  off'n 
your  min'  dat  you  '11  want  a  cook!"  She 
turned  to  the  child,  and  the  tone  of  her 
voice  could  n't  have  been  more  different  if  it 
had  come  from  the  lips  of  another  woman: 
"Honey,  don't  git  too  close  ter  de  stove; 
ef  yo'  frock  ketches  afire  you  won't  need 
no  nuss.  Mr.  Billy  Sanders  '11  be 
a-knockin'  at  dat  do'  present'y,  an'  supper 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      31 

ain't  nigh  ready — an'  dey  won't  be  no 
supper  ef  I  got  ter  be  crowded  outer  my 
own  kitchen." 

Adelaide  looked  and  listened,  and  finally 
she  said:  "Aunt  Lucindy,  Cally-Lou  says 
she  does  n't  like  to  be  where  people  are  mad 
and  quarreling.  She  's  afraid  she  '11  have 
to  go  off  somewhere  else." 

"Whar  is  Cally-Lou,  honey?  an*  how 
big  is  she?" 

"Oh,  she's  lot's  bigger  than  me," 
replied  Adelaide,  very  primly,  "and  she  's 
sitting  on  the  floor  right  by  me.  She  says 
that  fussing  gives  her  nervy  posteration." 

"You  say  dat  Cally-Lou  is  settin'  on 
de  flo'  by  yo'side?"  Lucindy  asked, 
opening  her  eyes  a  little  wider.  "Den 
how  come  I  can't  see  her  ?" 

"Well,"  said  Adelaide,  turning  her  soft 
blue  eyes  on  the  negro  woman,  and  speak 
ing  with  what  seemed  to  be  perfect  serious 
ness,  "she  is  n't  used  to  you  yet,  and  then 
she  has  had  such  a  bad  day!" 

Lucindy  paused  in  her  work  and  took 
a  long  look  at  the  pretty  face  of  the  child. 
"I  can't  see  her,  honey,  but  dat  ain't  no 


32      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

reason  she  ain't  dar  whar  you  say  she 's  at. 
Let  'lone  dat,  it 's  a  mighty  good  reason 
why  she  is  dar!" 

After  a  little  Adelaide  went  into  the 
sitting-room,  and  there  found  her  Uncle 
Jonas  sitting  in  the  twilight  that  came  dimly 
through  the  windows.  She  crept  to  his 
side,  and  leaned  her  head  with  its  long 
golden  curls  against  his  arm.  She  may 
have  wondered  why  he  failed  to  take  her 
on  his  knee,  but  she  said  nothing,  and  he, 
being  busy  with  some  old,  old  thoughts 
that  came  back  to  him,  was  as  silent  as  the 
fat  china  dog  that  sat  peacefully  by  the 
fireplace. 

Presently  Lucindy  came  in  to  light  the 
lamps,  and  saw  the  child  standing  by  old 
Jonas.  "Honey!"  she  exclaimed  in  a 
startled  tone,  "ain't  you  tired  to  death? 
Ain't  yo'  legs  'bout  to  give  way  fum  under 
you?  I  bet  you  Cally-Lou  done  gone 
ter  bed " 

"No,"  said  Adelaide;  "she  's  very  tired, 
but  she  's  standing  up  just  like  me."  The 
next  thing  to  happen  was  the  entrance  of 
Mr.  Sanders,  who  seemed  to  bring  the 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN     33 

fresh  breezes  with  him.  He  seized  Ade 
laide  in  his  arms,  and  carried  her  into  the 
dining-room.  When  all  were  seated, 
Adelaide  waited  a  moment,  as  though  she 
was  expecting  something.  Then  she  placed 
her  little  hands  over  her  face,  leaned  her 
head  nearly  down  upon  the  table,  and 
said  grace  silently;  and  but  for  the  audible 
amen,  the  men  would  never  have  guessed 
what  she  was  doing. 

"I  hope  you  mentioned  my  name,"  said 
Mr.  Sanders,  with  due  solemnity. 

The  child  paid  no  attention  to  the  remark, 
nor  did  she  even  glance  at  any  one  at  the 
table,  until  the  genial  guest  turned  to  the  host 
and  made  a  polite  inquiry.  "Jonas,  do  you 
button  these  napkins  on  before  or  behind? 
I  don't  want  to  make  any  blunder  if  I  can 
help  it." 

At  this,  Adelaide  looked  up  and  saw 
that  Mr.  Sanders  was  trying  to  tie  a 
corner  of  the  tablecloth  around  his  neck. 
The  sight  was  so  unexpected  that  she 
gave  forth  a  peal  of  the  merriest  laughter 
ever  heard,  and  Lucindy  gave  a  snort  of 
discomfiture. 


34      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

"I  declar'  ter  gracious!"  she  exclaimed, 
"  ef  I  ain't  done  gone  and  fergit  de  napkins !" 

The  oversight  was  soon  remedied,  and 
everything  went  along  all  right  until  Mr. 
Sanders,  taking  a  spoon  in  his  hand,  said 
to  the  child: 

"Miss  Adelaide,  I  '11  bet  you  and  Cally- 
Lou  can't  do  this." 

He  placed  the  spoon  so  far  in  his  mouth 
that  nothing  could  be  seen  but  a  small 
part  of  the  handle.  Lucindy  had  to  leave 
the  room,  and  the  child  laughed  until  the 
tears  ran  down  her  cheeks.  When  she  could 
control  herself,  she  said,  reproachfully: 

"Bishop,  some  day  you  '11  choke  yourself 
—  you  may  ask  anybody —  and  then  what 
will  the  people  do?" 


PART  II 

Far  over  the  hills,  the  wayward, 

White  feet  of  the  children  ran, 
Now  gleaming  in  the  shadows, 

Now  glistening  in  the  sun  — 
And  always  travelling  dayward 

As  they  flit  by  one  by  one, 

—Vanderlyn's  Songs  of  the  Part. 

IT  WAS  curious  how  much  interest  Mr. 
Sanders  began  to  take  in  the  home 
life  that  the  mere  presence  of  Adelaide 
brought  to  old  Jonas  Whipple's  house. 
He  would  walk  in  without  knocking,  some 
times  just  about  tea-time,  and  the  child 
would  invariably  ask  him  to  stay.  Then 
after  tea,  he  would  challenge  old  Jonas  for 
a  game  of  checkers,  and  Adelaide  thought 
it  was  great  fun  to  watch  them,  they 
were  so  eager  to  defeat  each  other.  Mr. 
Sanders  had  long  been  the  champion 
checker-player  in  that  part  of  the  country, 
and  he  was  very  much  astonished  to  find 
that  old  Jonas  was  himself  an  expert. 
Sometimes  Adelaide  would  watch  the  game, 

35 


36      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

and  the  two  men  invariably  appealed 
to  her  to  settle  any  question  or  doubt  that 
arose,  such  as  which  of  the  two  made  the 
last  move,  or  whether  old  Jonas  had 
slipped  a  man  from  the  board. 

Most  frequently,  however,  Adelaide  was 
busy  with  her  own  affairs,  and  when  this 
was  the  case,  the  two  men  sat  quietly 
together,  sometimes  talking  and  sometimes 
listening. 

"The  Bishop  is  here,"  Adelaide  would 
say  to  Cally-Lou.  Then  it  seemed  that 
C ally-Lou  would  make  some  reply  that 
could  only  be  heard  through  the  ears  of 
the  imagination,  to  which  Adelaide  would 
respond  most  earnestly:  "Why  of  course 
he  is  n't  asleep,  'cause  I  saw  him  wink 
both  eyes  just  now" —  and  the  conver 
sation  would  go  on,  sometimes  good- 
humouredly,  and  sometimes  charged  with 
pretended  indignation.  If  there  had  been 
any  telephones,  Mr.  Sanders  would  inevi 
tably  have  said:  "You  can't  make  me 
believe  thar  ain't  some  un  at  the  other 
eend  of  the  line." 

I  would  say  it  was  all  like  a  play  on  the 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      37 

stage,  only  it  was  n't  as  small  as  that. 
A  play  on  the  stage,  as  you  well  know,  has 
its  times  and  places.  It  must  come  to 
an  end  within  a  reasonable  time.  The 
curtain  comes  down,  the  audience  files  out, 
laughing  and  chatting,  or  wiping  its  eyes 
—  as  the  case  may  be  —  the  actors  run 
to  their  cheerless  rooms  to  strip  off  their 
tinsel  finery,  then  the  lights  are  put  out, 
and  everything  is  left  to  the  chill  of  empti 
ness  and  gloom.  But  this  was  not  the  way 
with  the  play  at  old  Jonas's  home.  It 
began  early  in  the  morning  —  for  Adelaide 
was  a  very  early  riser  —  and  lasted  until 
bed-time;  and,  sometimes,  longer,  as 
Lucindy  could  have  told  you.  Old  Jonas 
had  a  way  of  covering  his  bald  head  with 
a  flannel  night-cap,  and  tucking  the  bed- 
covering  about  his  face  and  ears,  so  that 
light  and  sound,  no  matter  where  they 
came  from,  would  have  as  much  as  they 
could  do  to  reach  his  eyes  and  ears;  and, 
while  he  lay  very  still,  as  though  he  were 
sound  asleep,  he  was  sometimes  awake 
for  a  very  long  time,  thinking  old  thoughts 
and  new  ones,  remembering  people  he 


38      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

had  pinched  in  money  matters,  and  think 
ing  of  those  he  intended  to  pinch. 

After  Adelaide  came  to  live  with  him 
he  had  few  thoughts  of  this  kind,  and 
less  desire  to  sleep.  Frequently  he  lay 
awake  for  hours  at  a  time,  wondering  if 
the  child  was  comfortable.  Adelaide  slept 
in  a  poster  bed,  one  of  the  old-fashioned 
kind,  and  many  a  night,  when  everything 
was  still  and  dark  as  the  gloomy  plague 
that  fell  over  Egypt,  old  Jonas  would  slip 
from  under  his  carefully  tucked  cover, 
steal  into  the  room  where  the  child  slept, 
and  listen  by  her  bedside  to  convince  him 
self  that  she  was  really  breathing,  so  softly 
and  shyly  did  she  draw  her  breath.  And 
sometimes  he  would  put  out  his  hand  and 
feel  —  oh,  ever  so  gently! — if  she  had 
kicked  off  the  covering. 

Now,  it  frequently  happened  that 
Lucindy,  the  cook,  had  the  same  spells  of 
uneasiness,  and  it  chanced  one  night  that 
they  were  both  at  the  child's  bed  at  the 
same  time.  Old  Jonas  was  feeling,  and 
Lucindy  was  feeling,  and  their  hands 
met;  the  cold  hand  of  old  Jonas  touched 


Old  Jonas  would  listen  by  her  bedside  to  convince  himseli 
that  she  was  really  breathing  " 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      39 

Lucindy's  hand.  This  was  enough! 
Lucindy  said  not  a  word  —  indeed,  words 
were  beyond  her  —  she  said  afterward  that 
she  came  within  one  of  uttering  a  scream 
and  dropping  to  the  floor.  But  the  fright 
that  had  weakened  her,  had  also  given  her 
strength  to  escape.  She  stole  back  to  her 
place  on  tip-toe,  declaring  in  her  mind  that 
she  would  never  again  enter  that  room 
at  night  unless  she  had  torch-bearers  to 
escort  her. 

It  was  contrary  to  all  her  knowledge  and 
experience  that  old  Jonas  should  concern 
himself  about  the  child  at  his  time  of  life, 
and  with  his  whimsical  habits  and  methods. 
In  trying  to  account  for  the  incident,  her 
mind  never  wandered  in  the  direction  of 
old  Jonas  at  all.  To  imagine  that  he  was  at 
the  bedside  of  the  child,  investigating  her 
comfort,  was  far  less  plausible  than  any 
other  explanation  she  could  offer.  And 
then  and  there,  the  legend  of  C ally-Lou 
became  charged  with  reality,  so  far  as 
Lucindy  was  concerned;  and  it  had  a 
larger  growth  in  one  night,  from  the 
impetus  that  Lucindy  gave  it,  than  an 


40      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

ordinary  legend  could  hope  to  have  in  a 
century. 

Lucindy  lost  no  time  in  mentioning  the 
matter  to  Adelaide  the  next  day.  "La, 
honey!  I  had  de  idee  dat  you  wuz  des 
a-playin'  when  I  hear  you  talkin'  to  Cally- 
Lou;  I  got  de  idee  dat  she  wuz  des  one 
er  de  Whittle-Come-Whattles  dat  lives 
in  folks'  min',  an'  nowhar  else.  Dat  'uz 
kaze  I  ain't  never  seed  'er;  my  eye-balls 
ain't  got  de  right  slant,  I  reckon.  But 
las'  night,  I  tuck  a  notion  dat  you  had 
done  kick  de  kivver  off,  an'  in  I  went, 
gropin'  an'  creepin'  'roun'  in  de  dark  — 
not  dish  yer  common  dark  what  you  have 
out'n  doors,  but  de  kin'  dat  your  Nunky- 
Punky  keeps  in  de  house  at  night;  an' 
de  Lord  knows  ef  I  had  ez  much  money 
ez  what  dey  say  he's  got,  I  'd  have  me  ten 
candles  an'  a  lantern  lit  in  eve'y  blessed 
room.  Well,  I  went  in  dar,  des  like  I  tell 
you,  an'  I  put  out  my  han'  —  des  so  — 
an'  I  teched  somebody  else's  han',  an' 
'twant  your'n,  honey,  kaze  'twuz  ez  col'  ez 
a  frog  in  de  branch.  I  tell  you  now,  I 
lit  out  fum  dar  —  bosses  could  n't  'a'  helt 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN     41 

me  —  an'  I  come  in  de  back  room  dar  whar 
I  b'long'ded  at,  crope  back  in  bed,  an' 
shuck  an'  shiver'd  plum'  tell  sleep  come 
down  de  chimberly  an'  sot  on  my  eyeleds. 

"Nobody  nee'n'ter  tell  me  dey  aint 
no  Cally-Lou,  kaze  I  done  gone  an'  felt 
un  her.  Folks  say  dat  feelin's  lots  better'n 
seein'.  What  you  see  may  n't  be  dar, 
kaze  yer  eyeballs  may  be  wrong,  but  what 
you  feels  un,  it's  blidze  ter  be  dar.  Well, 
I  done  put  my  ban'  on  Cally-Lou!  Yes, 
honey,  right  on  Jer!"  Lucindy  told  her 
experience  to  many,  including  old  Jonas, 
who  glared  at  her  with  his  ferret-like  eyes, 
and  moved  his  jaws  as  if  he  were  chewing 
a  very  toothsome  tidbit;  and  the  oftener 
she  told  it,  the  larger  it  grew  and  the  more 
completely  she  believed  in  Cally-Lou. 

Many  shook  their  heads,  while  others 
openly  avowed  their  disbelief.  On  the 
other  hand  a  large  number  of  those  who 
came  in  contact  with  Lucindy  and  heard 
her  solemn  account  of  the  affair,  were 
greatly  impressed.  Adelaide  showed  not 
the  slightest  surprise  when  Lucindy 
recounted  her  astonishing  adventure.  She 


42      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

seemed  to  be  glad  that  the  cook  had  now 
discovered  for  herself  about  Cally-Lou, 
but  she  seemed  very  much  distressed,  and 
also  irritated,  that  the  Chill-Child-No- 
Child  (as  she  sometimes  called  her)  should 
be  so  thoughtless  as  to  wander  about  in 
the  darkness  with  nothing  on  her  feet  and 
little  on  her  body.  With  both  hands 
Adelaide  pushed  back  her  wonderful  hair 
that  was  almost  hiding  her  blue  eyes. 

"I  don't  know  how  often  I  have  told 
Cally-Lou  not  to  go  gadding  about  the  house 
at  night,  catching  cold  and  making  Nunky- 
Punky  pay  a  dollar  apiece  for  doctor's  bills. 
No  wonder  she  slept  so  late  this  morning!" 

Adelaide  not  only  talked  like  she  was 
picking  the  words  out  of  a  big  book,  as 
Lucindy  declared,  but  there  were  times,  as 
now,  when  all  the  troubles  and  responsibil 
ities  of  maternity  looked  out  upon  the  world 
through  her  eyes.  Old-fashioned,  and 
apparently  as  much  in  earnest  as  a  woman 
grown,  it  was  no  wonder  that  Lucindy 
gazed  at  her  like  one  entranced ! 

Adelaide  made  no  further  remark,  but 
turned  and  went  from  the  kitchen  into 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      43 

the  house.  All  the  doors  were  open,  the 
weather  being  warm  and  pleasant,  and 
Lucindy  presently  heard  her  asking  Cally- 
Lou  why  she  continued  to  disobey  the  only 
friend  she  had  in  the  world.  Cally-Lou 
must  have  made  some  excuse,  or  explana 
tion,  though  Lucindy  could  n't  hear  a 
word  thereof,  for  Adelaide,  speaking  in 
a  louder  tone,  gave  the  Chill-Child-No- 
Child  a  sound  rebuke. 

"I  don't  care  if  you  do  feel  that  way 
about  it,"  said  she;  "Nunky-Punky  can 
look  'after  me,  if  he  feels  like  it,  and  so 
can  Aunt  Lucindy,  but  I  'm  the  one  to  look 
after  you.  Be  ashamed  of  yourself!  a  great 
big  girl  like  you  going  around  in  the  dark, 
barefooted  and  bareheaded.  Seat  yourself 
in  that  chair,  and  don't  move  out  of  it  till 
I  tell  you,  or  you  '11  be  sorry." 

Lucindy,  listening  with  all  her  ears, 
lifted  her  arms  in  a  gesture  of  admiration 
and  astonishment,  exclaiming  to  herself, 
"I  des  wish  you  'd  listen!  Dat  sho  do  beat 
my  time!" 

Adelaide  went  off  to  play,  and  it  might 
be  supposed  that  she  had  forgotten  Cally- 


44      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

Lou;  but  a  little  before  the  hour  was  up, 
she  went  into  the  house  again,  called  Cally- 
Lou,  and,  after  a  little,  came  running  out 
again,  laughing  as  gayly  as  if  she  had  heard 
one  of  Mr.  Sanders's  jokes. 

"What  de  matter,  honey?  Whar  Cally- 
Lou?"  Lucindy  inquired. 

"Why,  she  went  fast  asleep  in  the  chair," 
cried  Adelaide,  laughing  as  though  it  were 
the  funniest  thing  imaginable,  "and  no 
wonder  she  fell  asleep  after  wandering 
about  the  house,  pretending  she  wanted 
to  make  sure  that  I  was  snivelling  under 
that  heavy  cover.  How  can  anybody  get 
cold  such  weather  as  this  ?" 

Lucindy  shook  her  head.  "  De  han'  dat 
totch  mine  was  col',  honey  —  stone  col'." 

"Oh,  Cally-Lou's  hand!  Well,  she  can 
sit  by  the  fire  and  still  be  cold,"  responded 
Adelaide.  "Cally-Lou  is  mighty  funny," 
she  went  on,  growing  confidential;  "she 
says  she  is  lonesome;  she  wants  to  play 
with  growner  folks  than  me." 

"Well,  honey,  I  dunner  whar  she'll 
fin'  um.  Dar's  Mr.  Sanders;  sholy  he 
ain't  too  young  fer  'er!" 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      45 

As  though  the  mention  of  his  name 
had  summoned  Mr.  Sanders  from  the  dim 
and  vague  region  where  Cally-Lou  had 
her  place  of  residence,  those  in  the  kitchen 
now  heard  his  voice  in  the  house.  He 
had  entered,  as  usual,  without  taking  the 
trouble  to  knock,  and  he  came  down  the 
long  hall,  talking  and  saluting  imaginary 
persons,  hoping  in  that  way  to  attract  the 
attention  of  Adelaide.  Nor  was  he  unsuc 
cessful. 

"Well,  I  declare!"  he  exclaimed.  "Here's 
Miss  Sue  Frierson!  —  an'  well-named  too, 
bekaze  ever 'body  knows  that  she'd  fry 
a  sun  ef  she  had  one.  Howdy,  Miss  Sue! 
Miss  Susan-Sue!  Ef  you  are  well,  why 
I  am  too !  So  it 's  up  an'  hop  to-day. 
Dr.  Honeyman  says  she  won't  be  well 
tell  she 's  better.  She  had  company  last 
night,  an'  she  tried  for  to  nod  whiles 
she  was  standin'  up.  It  'd  'a'  been  all 
right  ef  her  feet  had  n't  'a'  gone  to  sleep. 
Thereupon,  an'  likewise  whatsoever — as  the 
Peskerwhalian  Bishop  says — she  fell  off'n 
her  perch,  an'  had  to  be  put  to  bed  back- 
'ards.  What?  You  don't  know  the 


46      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

Peskerwhalian  Bishop?  Well,  his  hard 
ware  name  is  William  H.  Sanders,  of  the 
county  aforesaid,  Ashbank  Deestrick,  G.  M. 

"Cally-Lou?  Well,  I  hain't  seed  the 
child  to-day,  but  she 's  up  an'  about;  you  '11 
hear  her  whistlin'  fer  company  presently. 
Can't  stay  ?  Well,  good  bye,  Miss  Susan- 
Sue;  mighty  glad  I  met  you  when  I  did. 
So  long,  or  longer!" 

Bowing  Miss  Frierson  out,  though  she 
was  invisible  to  all  eyes,  Mr.  Sanders 
came  back  toward  the  kitchen  talking  to 
himself.  "Well,  well!  I  hadn't  seed  my 
Susan-Sue  in  thirteen  year,  an'  she's  jest  the 
same  as  she  was  when  she  engaged  herself 
to  me — eyes  like  they  had  been  jest  washed, 
an'  the  eend  of  her  nose  lookin'  like  a  ripe 
plum!  But  sech  is  life  whar  we  live  at. 
Howdy,  Adelaide  ?  Howdy,  Lucindy  ?  I 
hope  both  of  you  have  taken  your  stand 
among  my  well-wishers." 

"La,  Mr.  Sanders,  how  you  does  run  on! 
I  b'lieve  you  er  lots  wuss'n  you  used  to  be!" 

"Well,  Lucindy,  it's  mighty  hard  for 
to  make  a  young  boss  stand  in  one  place. 
He  's  uther  got  to  go  back'ards  or  forrerds, 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      47 

or  jump  sideways.  I  've  jest  begun  to 
live  goodo  I  feel  a  heap  better  sence  I 
was  born  in  the  country  whar  Miss  Ade 
laide  spends  her  time  an'  pleasure." 

"Now,  Bishop,  tell  me,  please,  if  you 
were  really  talking  to  Miss IVIiss 

"Frierson —  Miss  Susan-Sue  Frierson." 
Mr.  Sanders  supplied  the  name  to  Adelaide. 
He  seemed  to  be  filled  with  astonishment. 
"Did  you  hear  me  talking?"  he  asked  in  a 
confidential  whisper.  '  Why,  I  —  I  did  n't 
know  you  could  hear  me!  Now,  don't  go 
and  tell  ever 'body.  She  lives  in  our 
country,  an'  she  come  for  to  see  Cally-Lou." 

"Well,  I'm  sorry  Cally-Lou  didn't  see 
her.  I  had  to  punish  her  to-day,  and  she's 
not  feeling  so  well." 

'Well,  I  reckon  not!"  exclaimed  Mr. 
Sanders;  "'specially  ef  you  used  a  cow 
hide,  or  a  barrel-stave.  What  have  you 
got  to  do  to-day,  and  whar  are  you  gwine? 
I  had  a  holiday  comin'  to  me,  an'  so  I 
thought  I  'd  come  down  here  an'  take  you 
to  the  Whish-Whish  Woods  an'  hunt  for 
the  Boogerman." 

At   once   Adelaide   was  in   a   quiver   of 


48     THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

excitement.  "Shall  we  camp  out?  Must 
we  take  guns?  How  long  shall  we  stay?" 

"Guns!  why,  tooby  shore,"  replied  Mr. 
Sanders,  with  an  expression  of  ferociousness 
new  to  his  countenance;  "as  many  as  we 
can  tote  wi'out  sp'ilin'  our  complexions; 
an'  we  '11  stay  ontel  we  git  him  or  his  hide. 
Lucindy  'd  better  fix  up  a  lunch  for  two 
—  a  couple  of  biscuits  an'  a  couple  of 
buttermilks.  Thar's  no  tellin'  when  we  '11 
git  back." 

Now,  old  Jonas  Whipple  had  the  largest 
and  the  finest  garden  in  town.  It  was 
such  a  fine  garden,  indeed,  that  the  neigh 
bours  had  a  way  of  looking  at  it  over  the 
fence,  and  wondering  how  Providence 
could  be  so  kind  to  a  man  so  close  and 
stingy,  and  so  mean  in  money-matters. 
And  as  your  neighbours  can  wonder  about 
one  thing  as  well  as  another,  old  Jonas's 
wondered  where  all  the  vegetables  went 
to.  It  was  out  of  the  question  that  old 
Jonas  should  use  them  all  himself;  and 
yet,  as  regularly  as  the  garden  was  planted 
every  year,  as  certainly  as  the  vegetables 
always  grew  successfully,  let  the  season 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      49 

be  wet  or  dry,  just  as  regularly  and  just 
as  certainly,  the  various  crops  disappeared 
as  fast  as  they  became  eatable  —  and 
that,  too,  when  nearly  everybody  in  the 
community  had  gardens  of  their  own.  It 
was  a  very  mild  mystery,  but  in  a  village, 
such  as  Shady  Dale  was,  even  a  mild 
mystery  becomes  highly  important  until 
it  is  solved,  and  then  it  is  forgotten.  Only 
Mr.  Sanders  had  solved  it  thus  far,  and 
this  was  the  main  reason  why  he  "neigh 
boured"  with  old  Jonas.  He  had  dis 
covered  that  the  vegetables  went  to  the 
maintenance  of  a  small  colony  of  "tackies" 
that  had  settled  near  Shady  Dale  — 
"dirt-eaters"  they  were  called.  They  were 
so  poor  and  improvident  that  the  men 
went  in  rags  and  the  women  in  tatters; 
and  only  old  Jonas's  fine  garden  was  free  to 
them.  In  the  early  morning  twilight  they 
would  slip  in  with  their  bags  and  their  bas 
kets,  and  were  gone  before  anybody  but  them 
selves  had  shaken  off  the  shackles  of  sleep. 

Eighteen      Hundred      and       Sixty-eight 
seemed    to   be   very   pale    when   Adelaide 


50      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

and  I  found  it  under  the  honeysuckle  vine, 
but  in  old  Jonas's  garden  it  was  par 
ticularly  brilliant  in  its  colours  of  green. 
Green  is  the  admiration  of  summer,  and 
it  has  more  beautiful  shades  than  the 
rainbow.  Observe  the  marked  difference 
between  the  cabbage  and  the  corn,  between 
the  squash  and  watermelon  vines,  between 
the  asparagus  and  the  cucumber,  between 
the  red  pepper  plants  and  the  tomato 
vines!  These  variations  are  worth  more 
than  a  day's  study  by  any  artist  who  is 
ambitious  of  training  his  eyes  to  colour. 

In  old  Jonas's  garden  in  the  summer 
we  are  speaking  of,  there  were  three  squares 
of  corn,  the  finest  that  had  ever  been  seen 
on  upland.  And  it  was  very  funny,  too: 
for  old  Jonas  had  planted  early,  and  the 
frost  had  come  down  and  nipped  the  corn 
when  it  was  about  three  inches  high.  The 
negro  gardener  was  in  despair;  in  all 
his  experience,  and  he  was  gray-headed, 
he  had  never  seen  anything  like  this  late 
frost,  and  he  was  anxious  for  the  corn  to  be 
ploughed  up,  so  that  it  could  be  replanted. 
Old  Jonas  would  n't  hear  to  the  proposition, 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      51 

and  the  gardener  went  about  his  business, 
wondering  how  a  man  could  be  so  stingy 
about  seed  corn,  when  he  had  seven  or 
eight  bushels  stored  away  in  the  dry 
cellar. 

But,  as  time  went  on,  the  gardener  dis 
covered  that  old  Jonas  had  wisdom  on  his 
side  of  the  fence;  the  corn  not  only  came 
up  again  after  being  cut  down,  but  it  grew 
twice  as  fast,  and  almost  twice  as  high 
as  anybody  else's  corn.  In  short,  there 
had  never  before  been  seen,  in  that  neigh 
bourhood,  a  roasting-ear  patch  quite  as 
vigorous.  Some  of  the  cornstalks  were 
nearly  fourteen  feet  high,  and  some  of 
them  had  as  many  as  four  ear-sprouts 
showing.  The  patch  was  so  rank  and 
healthy  that  it  attracted  the  attention  of 
Mr.  Sanders.  He  climbed  the  fence,  and 
went  into  old  Jonas's  garden  to  give  it  a 
close  examination.  A  good  breeze  was 
blowing  at  the  time,  and  the  sword-like 
leaves  of  the  corn  were  stirred  by  it,  so 
that  they  waved  up  and  down  and  from 
side  to  side,  whispering  to  one  another, 
"  Whish-whish ! "  That  was  enough  for 


52      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

Mr.  Sanders.  He  thought  instantly  of 
Adelaide,  and  he  named  the  roasting-ear 
patch  the  Whish-Whish  Woods,  and  that 
was  where  he  proposed  to  go  hunting  for 
the  Boogerman,  the  awful,  greedy  creature 
that  ate  Nunky-Punky's  vegetables  raw! 

Lucindy  did  n't  need  any  training  in  the 
quick-lunch  line,  and  in  less  than  no  time, 
if  we  may  deal  familiarly  with  the  ticking 
of  the  clock,  she  had  cut  two  biscuits  open 
and  inserted  in  each  a  juicy  slice  of  ham; 
and  while  she  was  doing  this,  Adelaide 
ran  to  her  armoury,  where  she  kept  her 
weapons,  offensive  and  defensive,  and  came 
running  back  with  two  guns.  They  were 
cornstalk  guns,  but  not  the  less  dangerous 
on  that  account.  They  were  very  long 
and,  as  Mr.  Sanders  said,  they  had  about 
them  an  appearance  of  violence  calculated 
to  make  the  Boogerman  fall  on  his  knees 
and  surrender  the  moment  he  was  dis 
covered.  An  ordinary  gun  might  miss  fire 
-  such  things  have  been  known  before 
now  —  but  a  cornstalk  gun,  never!  All 
you  have  to  do  when  you  have  a  cornstalk 
gun,  is  to  point  it  at  the  destined  victim, 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      53 

shut  your  eyes  and  say  Bang!  in  a  loud 
voice,  and  the  thing  is  done.  And  if 
people  or  things  —  whatever  and  whoever 
you  shoot  at  —  should  be  mean  enough 
to  remain  unhurt,  why,  then,  that  is  their 
fault,  and  much  good  may  their  meanness 
do  them! 

Well,  Adelaide  and  Mr.  Sanders  took 
their  lunch  and  were  about  to  start  on 
their  dangerous  expedition,  when  they 
bethought  themselves  of  something  that 
Lucindy  had  forgotten. 

"Why,  Lucindy!"  cried  Adelaide,  "what 
is  the  matter  with  you  ?" 

"Nothin'  'tall  dat  I  knows  on,  honey ~ 
1 'm  de  same  ol'  sev'n  an'  six  what  I  allers 
been." 

Then  Mr.  Sanders  came  to  Adelaide's 
support.  "Well,  your  mind  must  be 
wanderin',"  he  said,  "bekaze  we  ast  you 
as  plain  as  tongue  kin  speak  for  to  put  us 
up  a  couple  of  buttermilks." 

Lucindy  threw  her  hand  above  her  head 
with  a  gesture  of  despair.  "I  know  it, 
I  know  it!  but  I  ain't  got  but  one  butter 
milk.  Dar's  a  jar  full,  but  dat  don't 


54      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

make  but  one;  an'  what  I  gwine  do  when 
dat 's  de  case?" 

"Why,  ef  you've  got  a  jar  full,  thar 
must  be  mighty  nigh  a  dozen  buttermilks 
in  it."  And  so,  after  much  argument  and 
explanation,  Lucindy  found  a  bottle  and  a 
funnel  and  poured  two  glassfuls  in  it,  one 
after  the  other.  Mr.  Sanders,  very  solemn, 
counted  as  she  filled  the  glass.  "That 
makes  one,"  he  said,  as  she  emptied  the 
first  glass,  "an',"  when  she  poured  in  the 
rest — "  that  makes  two,  don't  it?" 

"Yasser!  La,  yasser!  you-all  got  me  so 
mixified  dat  I  dunner  know  which  eend 
I  'm  a  standin'  on.  Two !  yasser,  dey  sho 
is  two  in  dar!" 

Having  everything  needful  in  hand,  the 
hunters  took  their  way  toward  the  large 
garden.  Don't  think  this  garden  bore 
any  resemblance  to  the  ordinary  gardens 
that  are  to  be  found  in  cities  and  towns. 
No!  it  was  so  large  that,  standing  at  one 
end  you  had  to  shade  your  eyes  —  especially 
when  the  sun  was  shining  —  to  be  able  to 
see  the  boundary  fence  at  the  other  end. 
It  held  not  only  a  supply  of  vegetables 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      55 

sufficient  for  fifty  families,  but  it  con 
tained  an  abundance  of  old-fashioned 
flowers,  the  kind  you  see  pictured  in  the 
magazines  —  roses,  spice  pinks,  primroses, 
mint,  with  its  little  blue  flowers,  lavender 
-oh,  and  ever  so  much  of  everything! 
And  it  was  all  well  kept,  too,  stingy  as  old 
Jonas  was.  In  this  wide  garden  the  Whish- 
Whish  Forest  grew  and  flourished,  and 
toward  this  the  two  hunters  bent  their 
steps. 

At  first  they  pretended  they  were  not 
hunting.  Nothing  could  have  been  more 
innocent  than  the  careless  way  in  which 
they  made  their  way  toward  the  home  of 
the  Boogerrnan.  Hiding  their  cornstalk 
guns  behind  them  as  well  as  they  could, 
they  sauntered  along  examining  the  flowers, 
and  no  one  would  have  supposed  that  they 
were  after  ridding  the  country  of  the  cruel 
monster  that  had  terrorised  the  children 
for  miles  around.  In  not  less  than  seven 
or  seventeen  counties  was  his  name  spoken 
in  whispers  when  the  sun  had  gone  to  bed 
and  tucked  his  cloud-quilts  around  him. 
If  a  child  cried  at  night,  or  if  a  wide-awake 


56      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

little  one  uttered  a  whimpering  protest 
when  bed-time  came,  the  nurses  —  not 
one  nurse,  but  all  the  nurses  —  would 
raise  their  hands  warningly,  and  whisper 
in  a  frightened  tone,  "Sh-sh!  the  Booger- 
man  is  standing  right  there  by  the  window; 
if  you  make  a  noise,  he  '11  know  right  where 
you  are  —  and  then  what  will  happen?" 

Presently  Adelaide  and  Mr.  Sanders 
(who  was  still  the  Bishop,  be  it  remembered) 
came  close  in  their  saunterings  to  the  edge 
of  the  Whish-Whish  Woods,  and  then  they 
began  to  creep  forward,  making  as  little 
noise  as  possible. 

"Bishop,"  said  Adelaide,  in  a  whisper, 
"you  slip  through  the  Woods  one  way, 
and  I  '11  slip  through  the  other  way.  You 
can  be  a  bishop  and  a  Injun,  too,  can't 
you?" 

"Nothin'  easier,"  replied  the  Bishop,  try 
ing  to  whisper  in  return;  "I  '11  jest  take 
off  my  coat  an'  turn  it  wrongsud-out'rds, 
an'  thar  you  are!" 

Adelaide's  ecstasy  shone  in  her  face,  and 
with  good  reason,  for  the  middle  lining 
of  the  Bishop's  coat  was  fiery  red.  This 


"They  began  to  creep  forward,  making  as  little  noise  as  possible" 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      57 

was  too  good  to  be  true,  and  Adelaide  wished 
in  her  heart  that  she  had  worn  her  hat  with 
the  big  red  feather  —  oh,  you  know:  the 
one  she  wore  to  Sunday  School,  where  all 
the  other  little  girls  were  simply  green 
with  envy;  of  course  you  could  n't  forget 
that  hat  and  feather! 

In  spite  of  the  fiery  red  lining  of  his 
coat,  the  Bishop  had  an  idea  that  he  did  n't 
look  fierce  enough,  so  he  took  off  his  felt 
hat,  knocked  in  the  crown,  and  put  it  on 
upside  down.  His  aspect  was  simply  tre 
mendous.  No  hobgoblin  could  have  a 
fiercer  appearance  than  the  Bishop  had, 
and  if  Adelaide  did  n't  shriek  with  pure 
delight  it  was  because  she  put  her  gun 
across  her  mouth  and  bit  it.  She  bit  so 
hard  that  the  print  of  her  small  teeth 
showed  on  the  gun.  Well,  of  course, 
after  the  Bishop  had  transformed  himself 
into  such  a  ferocious-looking  monster,  he 
and  Adelaide  were  obliged  to  have  another 
consultation,  and  it  was  while  this  was 
going  on  that  Adelaide  came  near  spoiling 
the  whole  thing. 

"Oh,  Bishop!"  she  cried,  with  a  great 


58      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

gasp,    "how   do   you   laugh   when   you're 

obliged  to,  and  when "  she  gave  another 

gasp,  sank  to  the  ground,  and  lay  there, 
shaking  all  over. 

"You  put  me  in  mind,  honey,  of  the 
lady  in  the  book  that  leaned  ag'in  the 
old  ellum  tree  and  shuck  wi'  sobs,  ever' 
one  on  'em  more'n  a  foot  an'  a  half  long, 
wi'  stickers  on  'em  like  a  wild  briar.  It 's 
a  sad  thing  for  to  say,  but  I  'm  oblidze  to 
say  it.  The  time  has  come  when  we  've 
got  to  part.  Ef  we  go  on  this  way,  the 
Boogerman  will  come  along  an'  put  us 
both  in  his  wallet,  an'  then  what  '11  we  do  ? 
Things  can't  go  on  this  a- way.  It  may  be 
for  years  an'  it  may  be  forever,  as  Miss 
Ann  Tatum  says  when  she  begins  for  to 
squall  at  her  peanner,  but  the  time  to  part 
has  come.  You  creep  up  yander  by  the 
fence,  so  you  can  see  the  Boogerman  ef 
he  tries  for  to  git  away,  an'  I  '11  roost 
aroun'  in  the  bushes.  Ef  I  jump  him 
I'll  holla,  an'  ef  he  come  your  way,  jest 
shet  your  eyes  an'  give  him  both  barrels 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  eyeballs  an' 
appetite.  You  can't  kill  the  Boogerman 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      59 

unless  you  hit  him  in  his  green  eye  — 
the  other  is  a  dark  mud  colour." 

Well,  they  separated,  the  Bishop  beating 
in  the  bushes  and  underbrush,  as  he  called 
the  crab-grass  and  weeds  that  had  begun 
to  make  their  appearance  in  the  corn- 
patch,  and  Adelaide  creeping  to  her  post 
of  observation  as  though  she  were  stalking 
some  wild  and  wary  animal.  She  could 
hear  the  Bishop  rustling  about  in  the  thick 
corn,  but  could  n't  catch  a  glimpse  of  him. 
Once  she  heard  him  sneeze  as  only  a  middle- 
aged  man  can  sneeze,  and  she  frowned  as 
a  general  frowns  when  his  orders  have 
been  disobeyed.  Presently  she  heard  some 
one  coming  along  the  side  street,  which, 
being  away  from  the  main  thoroughfares, 
was  little  frequented.  Occasionally  a 
pedestrian,  or  a  farmer  going  home,  or 
house  servants,  who  lived  near-by,  passed 
along  its  narrow  length. 

The  moment  she  heard  footsteps,  Ade 
laide  shrank  back  in  the  thick  corn,  and 
held  her  cornstalk  gun  in  readiness.  Her 
hair  might  have  been  mistaken  for  a 
tangle  of  corn-silks  newly  sunburned  as 


60      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGEHMAN 

it  fell  over  her  face.  The  steps  drew  nearer, 
and,  in  a  moment,  a  negro  came  into  view. 
He  was  a  stranger  to  Adelaide,  and  that 
fact  only  made  it  more  certain  that  he  was 
the  Boogerman  himself,  who  had  jumped  the 
garden  fence  in  order  to  elude  Mr.  Sanders, 
and  was  now  sauntering  along  appearing 
as  innocent  as  innocence  itself.  When  the 
Boogerman  came  opposite  Adelaide's  hid 
ing-place,  she  jumped  up  suddenly,  aimed 
her  gun  and  cried  Bang!  in  a  loud  voice. 

Now,  as  it  happened,  the  passing  negro 
was  one  who  could  meet  and  beat  Adelaide 
on  her  own  ground.  The  cornstalk  gun, 
with  its  imperative  Bang!  carried  him 
back  to  old  times,  though  he  was  not  old 
—  back  to  the  times  when  he  played  make- 
believe  with  his  young  mistress  and  the 
rest  of  the  children.  Therefore,  simul 
taneously  with  Adelaide's  Bang!  he 
stopped  in  his  tracks,  his  face  working 
convulsively,  his  arms  flying  wildly  about, 
and  his  legs  giving  way  under  him.  He 
sank  slowly  to  the  ground,  and  then  began 
to  flop  about  just  as  a  chicken  does  when 
its  head  is  wrung  off. 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      61 

The  Bishop  heard  a  wild,  exultant  shout 
from  Adelaide:  "Run,  Bishop,  run!  I  've 
got  him!  I  Ve  killed  the  Boogerman! 
Run,  Bishop,  run!"  Mr.  Sanders  ran  as 
fast  as  he  could;  and  when  he  saw  the 
negro  lying  on  the  ground,  with  no  move 
ment  save  an  occasional  quiver  of  the  limbs 
and  a  sympathetic  twitching  of  the  fingers, 
his  amazement  knew  no  bounds. 

:'Why,  honey!"  he  cried,  "what  in  the 
world  have  you  done  to  him?" 

"I  did  n't  do  a  thing,  Bishop,  but  shoot 
him  with  my  cornstalk  gun;  I  did  n't  know 
it  had  such  a  heavy  load  in  it.  Anyhow,  he 
had  no  business  to  be  the  Boogerman.  Do 
you  think  he's  truly — ann — dead,Bishop  ?" 

"As  dead,"  Mr.  Sanders  declared  sol 
emnly,  "as  Hector.  I  dunno  how  dead 
Hector  was,  but  this  feller  is  jest  as  dead 
as  him  —  that  is  ef  he  ain't  got  a  connip 
tion  fit;  I  've  heern  tell  of  sech  things." 

They  climbed  the  garden  fence,  and  went 
to  where  the  Boogerman  was  lying  stretched 
out.  "When  a  man's  dead,"  said  Mr. 
Sanders,  "he'll  always  tell  you  so  ef  you 
ax  him." 


62      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

"Boogerman!  oh,  Boogerman!"  cried 
Adelaide,  going  a  little  closer. 

"Ma'am!"  replied  the  dead  one  feebly. 

"When  the  Boogerman  is  dead,"  said 
Adelaide,  "and  anybody  asks  him  if  it  is 
so,  he  lifts  his  left  foot  and  rolls  his  eye 
balls.  Are  you  dead?" 

In  confirmation  of  that  fact,  the  foot 
was  lifted,  and  the  eyeballs  began  to  roll. 
Adelaide  was  almost  jbeside  herself  with 
delight.  Never  had  she  hoped  to  have 
such  an  experience  as  this.  "Where  shall 
he  be  buried,  Bishop?" 

"Close  to  the  ash-hopper, right  behind  the 
kitchen,"  promptly  responded  Mr.  Sanders. 

"Get  up,  Boogerman!"  commanded 
Adelaide.  'You  have  to  go  to  your  own 
fumerl,  you  know,  and  you  might  as  well 
go  respectably."  Adelaide  always  uttered 
a  deliciously  musical  gurgle  when  she  used 
a  big  word. 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Sanders;  "as  fur  as  my 
readin'  goes,  thar  ain't  nothin'  in  the  four 
teenth  an'  fifteenth  amendments  ag'in  it.5' 

Now,  old  Jonas's  side-gate  opened  on 
this  street,  and  on  this  gate  Lucindy 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      63 

chanced  to  be  leaning,  when  the  Booger- 
man,  fatally  wounded  by  Adelaide's  corn 
stalk  gun,  sank  upon  the  ground  and 
began  to  jump  around  like  a  chicken  with 
its  head  off.  She  was  tremendously 
frightened  at  first;  in  fact  she  was  almost 
paralysed.  So  she  stayed  where  she  was, 
explaining  afterward  that  she  did  n't  want 
to  be  mixed  up  "wid  any  er  deze  quare 
doin's  what  done  got  so  common  sence 
de  big  rucus."  Then  she  saw  Adelaide 
and  Mr.  Sanders  climb  the  garden  fence 
and  stand  over  the  fallen  negro,  and 
curiosity  overcame  her  fright.  By  the 
time  the  negro  was  on  his  feet,  Lucindy 
had  arrived.  She  looked  at  him  hard, 
jumped  at  him,  threw  her  arms  around  his 
neck,  and  squeezed  him  so  tight  that  the 
two  of  them  kept  turning  around  as  if 
they  were  trying  to  keep  time  to  a  smothered 
waltz;  and  all  the  while  Lucindy  was 
moaning  and  groaning  and  thanking  the 
Lord  that  her  son  whom  she  had  not  seen 
in  four  long  years,  had  come,  as  it  were, 
right  straight  to  her  bosom. 

She  hugged  him  to  the  point  of  smifflica- 


64      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

tion,  as  Mr.  Sanders  declared,  and  she 
held  him  at  arm's  length,  the  better  to  see 
whether  he  had  changed,  and  in  what  partic 
ular.  Then  she  turned  to  Mr.  Sanders: 

"Mr.  Sanders,  sholy  you  knows  dis 
chil'  —  sholy  you  ain't  done  gone  an' 
disremembered  Randall.  Des  like  you 
seed  him  doin'  des  now,  dat  de  way  he 
been  doin'  all  his  born  days  • —  constantly 
a-playin',  constantly  a-makin'  out  dat 
what  ain't  so  is  so,  an'  lots  mo'  so.  Many 
an'  many 's  de  time  sence  Miss  Adelaide 
been  here  has  I  had  de  idee  dat  ef  Randall 
wuz  here,  he  'd  be  mo'  dan  a  match  fer 
Cally-Lou  an'  all  de  rest  un  um  dat  slips 
out'n  dreams  an'  stays  wid  us.  Yasser, 
I  sho  has.  But  now  he  's  come,  I  des  feels 
in  my  bones  dat  he  gwine  ter  git  in  deep 
trouble  'bout  dem  crimes  what  he  run 
away  fer." 

"Randall  is  the  chap  that  knocked 
Judge  Bowden's  overseer  crossways  an' 
crooked,  ain't  he?"  inquired  Mr.  Sanders. 

"Yasser,  he  done  dat  thing,"  replied 
Lucindy:  "an  how  come  he  ter  do  it  — 
him  dat  wuz  afear'd  er  his  own  shadder 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      65 

—  I  '11  never  tell  you.  Let  'lone  dat,  he 
ain't  gwin  ter  tell  you;  kaze  I  done  ax'd 
him  myse'f .  I  speck  he  '11  haf  ter  run 
away  ag'in." 

"You  know  me,  don't  you,  Randall?" 
inquired  Mr.  Sanders. 

"La!  yasser,  Mr.  Sanders,  I've  been 
knowin'  you  sence  I  could  walk  good." 

"That's  what  I  thought,"  said  Mr. 
Sanders.  "Well,  my  advice  to  you  is  to 
stay  an'  face  the  music.  Ef  the  man  you 
hit  makes  a  move  we'll  have  him  right 
whar  we  've  been  a-tryin'  fer  to  git  him  for 
two  long  years!" 

They  went  toward  the  house,  and  entered 
the  side-gate,  attracting,  as  they  did  so,  the 
attention  of  two  or  three  of  the  neighbours. 
The  Bishop  had  been  so  absorbed  in  what 
had  occurred  that  he  forgot  to  turn  his 
coat,  or  to  right  his  hat. 

"Did  you  see  old  Billy  Sanders?"  one 
woman  asked  another  over  the  back  fence. 

"I  did,"  replied  the  other,  "and  I  like  to 
have  dropped — I  believe  he  is  going  crazy." 

"Going!"  exclaimed  the  first  woman, 
"he  's  gone!  Done  gone!" 


PART  III 

O  winds  of  the  sea,  that  whisper, 

Will  you  not  whisper  to  me 
What  the  marvellous  strange  visions 

Of  a  little  child  may  be? 
O  wild  rose,  stirred  and  shaken, 

By  the  wind  that  ripples  the  stream, 
Why  are  the  children  dreaming, 

And  what  are  the  dreams  they  dream  ? 

—  Beverly's  Attitudes  and  Platitudes: 
A  Drama. 


A 


that  slip  out'n  dreams  an' 
stay  with  us!"  said  Mr.  Sanders 
to  himself,  as  they  went  along.  "Be 
jiggered  ef  that  ain't  a  new  one  on  me! 
I  '11  take  it  home  an'  chew  on  it  when 
I  'm  lonesome." 

Adelaide  had  just  cause  of  complaint, 
she  thought.  "Now  we  can't  have  any 
fumerl,  with  strange  folks  tip-toeing  about 
the  place,  and  carriages  at  the  door,  with 
horses  snorting  and  pawing  the  ground." 

"It  's  jest  as  well,"  remarked  Mr.  San 
ders.  "All  that  sort  of  thing  will  come 
along  lot's  quicker  than  we  want  it  to." 

66 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      67 

"They  come'd  twice  to  our  house  — 
two  times!"  said  Adelaide,  in  the  tone  of 
one  who  has  a  proprietary  interest  in  such 
matters.  "They  come'd  and  come'd,"  she 
went  on,  with  the  air  of  imparting  import 
ant  secret  information,  "and  they  peeped 
in  all  the  rooms,  and  in  the  closets,  and 
behind  the  doors,  and  pulled  out  all  the 
booro  draws;  yes,  and  some  of  'em  looked 
in  the  safe  where  mother  keeps  her  vittles!" 

There  was  something  pitiful  about  the 
child's  brief  recital.  She  had  seen  and 
noted  everything,  and  the  report  she  had 
inadvertently  made  to  Mr.  Sanders  rang 
true  to  life,  and  almost  humorously  true 
to  the  results  of  Mr.  Sanders's  observation. 
His  lips  twitched,  as  they  had  a  way  of 
doing  when  he  was  in  doubt  whether  to 
laugh  or  cry,  which  was  often  the  case. 

'Well,  honey,"  he  replied,  making  what 
excuse  he  could  for  poor  humanity,  "ef 
folks  is  ever  gwine  for  to  find  out  anything 
in  this  world  they've  got  to  stick  the'r 
noses  in  ev'ry  nook  an'  cranny." 

"  That 's  why  I  wanted  to  put  the  Booger- 
man  in  the  grave-yard.  Lucindy  is  his 


08      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

mother,  and  we  could  go  and  look  under 
her  bed,  and  peep  in  her  cubberd,  and 
find  out  everything  she 's  got,  and  more 
too." 

What  reply  Mr.  Sanders  would  have 
made  to  this  will  never  be  known,  for  they 
were  just  going  in  the  side  gate  that  let 
them  into  old  Jonas's  back-yard.  Old 
Jonas  himself  had  come  out  of  the  house, 
and  was  now  walking  about  in  the  yard 
with  his  hat  pulled  well  down  to  his  ears. 
The  opening  and  shutting  of  the  gate 
attracted  his  attention,  and  he  turned  to 
see  who  could  be  trespassing  on  his  prem 
ises.  When  he  saw  Mr.  Sanders  fantas 
tically  arrayed,  his  coat  turned  inside  out, 
and  his  hat  upside  down,  old  Jonas  flung 
both  hands  over  his  head  in  a  gesture  of 
amazement. 

;<Why,  what  foolery  is  this?  Good 
Lord,  Sanders!  have  you  turned  lunatic? 
Why  -  -  why  —  if  this  kind  of  thing  goes 
on  much  longer,  I  '11  sue  out  a  writ,  and 
have  you  sent  to  the  asylum;  I'll  do  it  as 
sure  as  my  name  is  Whipple!" 

"Please,  sir,  Nunky-Punky,  let  me  off 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      69 

this  time,  and  I  '11  never  play  wi'  Miss 
Adelaide  any  more.  An'  the  Boogerman 
may  git  you  for  all  I  keer!  An'  oF  Raw- 
Head-an' -Bloody-Bones  '11  crawl  out  from 
under  the  house  whar  he  lives  at,  an' 
snap  his  jaws  an'  wink  his  green  eyes  at 
you ;  an'  he  '11  ketch  you  an'  put  you  in  his 
wallet,  an'  chaw  you  up  bone  by  bone  — 
mark  my  words!" 

"Sanders!"  said  old  Jonas,  with  less 
anger  and  more  earnestness,  "what  in  the 
name  of  all  that 's  sensible,  is  the  matter 
with  you?" 

"Not  a  thing  in  the  world  but  pyore 
joy,  Jonas!  Climb  up  in  the  waggon  and 
let 's  all  take  a  ride.  I  'm  dead  in  love  wi' 
this  little  gal  here;  won't  you  j'ine  me? 
Nan  Dorrin'ton  used  to  be  my  beau- 
lover,  but  Nan 's  too  old,  an'  now  Adelaide 's 
done  took  her  place!  Slap  yourself  on 
the  hams  an'  crow  like  a  rooster!  Jump 
up  an'  crack  your  heels  together  twice 
before  you  come  to  earth  ag'in.  We've 
ketched  the  Boogerman,  an'  was  gittin' 
ready  for  to  fetch  him  home  bekaze  we 
had  him  whar  he  could  nuther  back  nor 


70      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

squall,  but  jest  about  that  time,  here  come 
Lucindy.  She  wa'n't  gallopin',  but  she 
give  us  ez  purty  a  sample  of  the  ginnywine 
buzzard-lope  as  you  ever  laid  eyes  on. 
She  grabbed  the  Boogerman  an'  give 
him  the  Putmon  county  witch-hug.  Arter 
she'd  smivelled  an'  smovelled  him  mighty 
nigh  to  death,  she  belt  him  off  from  her  an' 
claimed  him  as  her  long-lost  son;  she 
know'd  it  bekaze  he  had  a  swaller-fork  in 
one  y'ear,  an'  a  under-bit  in  the  other,  an' 
a  wind-gall  on  the  back  of  his  neck.  Her 
son,  mind  you!  Well,  when  I  know'd  her 
son  the  first  letter  of  his  name  was  Randall 
Bowden,  bekaze  Bowden  was  the  name 
of  the  man  he  belonged  to  —  you  remem 
ber  him,  Jonas?" 

"He  admitted  me  to  the  bar  and  came 
within  one  of  frightening  me  to  death," 
responded  old  Jonas. 

"Well,  you're  a  lawyer,  an'  you  know 
mighty  well  that  a  man  an'  a  citizen  can't 
change  his  name  wi'out  a  special  law  passed 
by  the  legislatur'.  Now,  ef  the  Booger 
man  was  a  plain  nigger,  it  would  n't  make 
a  bit  of  difference  what  he  called  hisse'f. 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      71 

But  thar  ain't  no  plain  niggers  any  more; 
they  're  all  sufferin'  citizens.  An'  here 
he  is  callin'  hisself  Randall  Holden.  What 
do  you  think  of  that  ?" 

Randall  shifted  from  one  foot  to  the 
other  and  looked,  first,  at  Mr.  Sanders, 
and  then  at  all  of  the  others  in  turn.  "  Well, 
suh,  Mr.  Sanders,  I  call  myse'f  Holden 
bekaze  they  ain't  no  Bowdens  fer  me  ter 
be  named  after.  Marster  's  dead,  Mistiss 
is  dead,  an'  Miss  Betty  is  done  gone 
an'  changed  her  name  by  —  er  —  gittin' 
married.  De  Holdens  ain't  all  dead  yit, 
an'  my  mistiss  wuz  a  Holden  proceedin' 
the  day  she  married  marster.  I  felt  like 
I  want  ter  be  named  after  somebody  that 
wuz  alive." 

"What  have  you  been  doing  all  this 
time  ?"  old  Jonas  asked  in  his  sharpest  and 
curtest  tone. 

"Workin'  hard  all  day,  an'  studyin' 
hard  at  night,  suh.  I  laid  off  ter  be  a 
preacher.  In  four  years,  I  reckon  I  has 
been  to  school  about  one  year.  I  can 
read  a  little,  an'  write  a  little,  an'  maybe 
do  some  easy  figgerin'.  It  looks  like  that 


72      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

books  git  harder  the  more  you  fool  with 
'em.  That 's  what  I  find  about  'em.  I 
jest  come  ter  see  my  mammy,  suh,  an'  she 
come  up  on  me  while  I  was  playin'  Booger- 
man  with  the  little  mistiss  there." 

"Doing  what?"  snapped  old  Jonas; 
and  then  Mr.  Sanders  had  to  relate  the 
wonderful  adventures  that  befell  Adelaide 
and  him  in  the  Whish-Whish  Woods. 
How  he  did  it  must  be  imagined,  but 
old  Jonas  listened  patiently  to  the  end, 
without  uttering  so  much  as  the  habitual 
"pish-tush." 

"Sanders,"  said  old  Jonas,  when  the 
narrative  of  the  expedition  was  concluded, 
"do  you  mean  to  stand  there  and  tell  me 
that  you,  a  man  old  enough  to  be  a  grand 
father,  got  in  that  rig,  and  went  trampling 
about  in  my  garden,  just  to  give  that  child 
a  little  pleasure?" 

"Why,  no,  Jonas,  I  can't  say  that  I  did; 
I  sorter  had  the  idee  that  I  mought  git  my 
name  in  your  will,  seein'  as  how  you  're 
so  abominably  fond  of  Adelaide.  That 's 
why  I  come!" 

It  was  at  this  point  that  Jonas's  "pish- 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      73 

tush"  did  execution;  he  fired  it  at  Mr. 
Sanders  with  as  much  energy  as  indignation 
could  give. 

Randall,  the  Boogerman,  was  evidently 
somewhat  in  doubt  of  old  Jonas's  dis 
position  in  regard  to  him,  and  so  he  said, 
with  every  appearance  of  embarrassment: 
"I  can't  stay  here  long,  suh,  bekaze  they's 
people  in  this  county  that  would  Ku-Kluck 
me  ef  they  know'd  I  was  anywheres 
around.  I'm  the  one,  suh,  that  knocked 
Mr.  Tuttle  in  the  head  with  my  hoe-handle 
when  he  was  marster's  overseer.  I  did  n't 
go  ter  do  it,  suh,  but  he  pecked  on  me  an' 
pecked  on  me  twel  I  did  n't  have  the  sense 
I  was  born  with.  It  looked  like  somebody 
had  flung  a  red  cloth  over  my  head;  ev'ry- 
thing  got  red,  an'  when  I  come  ter  myse'f 
Mr.  Tuttle  was  layin'  there  on  the  ground 
jest  as  still  as  ef  he  'd  a'  been  a  log  of  wood. 
I  know'd  mighty  well  that  ef  they  cotch 
me  I  'd  be  hung,  bekaze  that  was  the  law 
in  them  times;  Miss  Betty  tol'  me  so.  I 
got  away  from  there,  an'  run  home;  but 
before  I  got  there,  I  could  hear  white  folks 
a-hollerin',  an'  then  I  know'd  they  was 


74      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

after  me.  I  run  right  in  the  big  house,  an' 
went  up  stairs  the  back  way,  an'  before 
I  could  stop  myse'f  I  run  right  in  Miss 
Betty's  room.  She  was  in  there  combing 
her  hair;  she'd  been  having  a  party,  the 
first  one  after  she  come  back  frum  college." 

"Wasn't  she  frightened?"  old  Jonas 
inquired.  "Didn't  she  scream  and  raise 
a  row?" 

"No,  suh,"  replied  Randall,  the  Booger- 
man;  "she  wa'n't  no  more  skeer'd  than 
what  you  is  right  now.  She  say,  'How  dast 
you  ter  come  in  here  ?'  But  by  ther  time 
she  seed  the  blood  runnin'  down  my  face 
where  Mr.  Tuttle  had  hit  me,  an'  time 
she  looked  ag'in,  I  was  down  on  my  knees, 
sayin'  a  prayer  to  her.  I  tol'  her  that  the 
white  folks  was  after  me,  an'  begged  her 
not  ter  let  'em  git  me.  I  know'd  that  the 
way  to  the  top  of  the  house  led  through 
her  room,  an'  that  was  the  reason  I  run 
in  there  —  I  thought  she  was  down  stairs 
lookin'  after  her  party.  I  begged  an' 
prayed  so  hard  that  she  went  to  the  door 
leadin'  to  the  plunder  room  under  the  roof, 
an'  flung  it  open  with,  'Go  up  there,  an' 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      75 

keep  still;  don't  you  dast  to  make  any 
fuss!'  Well,  suh,  up  I  went,  an'  I  stayed 
there  twel  I  could  git  away.  Ef  any  of 
you-all  know  where  Miss  Betty  is,  an' 
will  tell  me,  I  '11  go  right  whar  she  is  an' 
work  fer  her  twel  she  gits  tired  of  bein' 
worked  fer." 

''All  dat's  de  naked  trufe,"  exclaimed 
Lucindy,  "kaze  Miss  Betty  come  out  ter 
de  kitchen  an'  tol'  me  whar  Randall  wuz,  an' 
gi'  me  de  key  er  de  do',  an'  I  tuck  him 
vittles  an'  clean  cloze  plum  twel  he  got 
away.  I  'd  'a'  gone  wid  Miss  Betty,  but 
I  know'd  dat  boy  would  come  back  here 
ef  he  wa'n't  dead,  an'  I  stayed  an'  waited 
fer  'im  twel  des  now.  You  may  have  de 
idee  dat  I  'm  quare,  but  Randall  is  my 
own  chile." 

By  this  time,  Mr.  Sanders  had  righted 
his  coat  and  hat,  and  was  now  regarding 
the  negro  with  some  curiosity.  "Lucindy 
ain't  the  only  one  that 's  been  a-waitin' 
fer  you,"  he  said.  "I  reckon  that  old 
Tuttle  and  his  crowd  have  been  doin' 
some  waitin'  the'rselves;  an'  I  know 
mighty  well  that  I  'm  one  of  the  waiters. 


76      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

How  much  do  you  charge  me  for  knockin* 
oF  Tuttle  in  sight  of  the  Promised  Land, 
and  how  much  will  you  charge  me  for  hittin' 
him  another  side- wipe?" 

"No,  suh,  Mr.  Sanders!  Not  me!  I 
ain't  never  lost  my  senses  sence  that  day 
in  the  cotton-patch;  no  matter  what  you 
do,  I  '11  never  see  red  any  more;  I  've  done 
tried  myself  an'  know.  No  more  red  fer 
me  —  not  in  dis  world!" 

"Old  Tuttle!"  snapped  Mr.  Jonas  Whip- 
pie.  "I  wish  the  buzzards  had  him!" 
Then  he  turned  to  Randall.  "Stay,  if 
you  want  to  stay.  I  've  plenty  of  work 
for  you  to  do.  Sanders,  can't  you  find  a 
job  for  him  at  a  pinch  ?" 

"Mercy,  yes!"  replied  Mr.  Sanders; 
"I  've  got  jobs  that  have  grown  gray  waitin' 
for  some  un  to  do  'em." 

"Stay!  stay!"  cried  old  Jonas,  in  his 
harsh  voice,  "and  if  old  Tuttle  bothers  you, 
come  to  me  or  go  to  Mr.  Sanders  there, 
and  we'll  see  who  has  the  longest  arm!" 

"Tooby  shore!"  assented  Mr.  Sanders, 
"an'  likewise  who's  got  the  longest  money- 
purse.  But  what 's  betwixt  you  an'  Tuttle  ?" 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      77 

"Why,"  said  old  Jonas,  "he  borrowed 
a  thousand  dollars  from  me  the  second 
year  of  the  war,  and  after  the  surrender 
crawled  under  the  exemption  act.  Now 
if  he  had  come  to  me  like  a  man  —  I  '11 
not  say  like  a  gentleman,  for  that  is  beyond 
him  —  if  he  had  come  to  me  and  said  that 
he  found  it  impossible  to  pay  the  money 
I  had  loaned  him  to  keep  the  sheriff  out 
of  his  yard,  I  'd  have  told  him  plainly  to 
go  on  about  his  business,  and  pay  me  when 
he  could.  Now,  I  propose  to  make  it  as 
hot  as  pepper  for  him,  especially  since 
he  has  developed  into  a  scalawag.  The 
latest  report  is,  that  he  is  one  of  the  officials 
of  the  Union  League." 

Old  Jonas  paused,  and  his  bead-like  eyes 
glittered  maliciously.  "Sanders,"  he  went 
on,  "it  is  n't  often  I  ask  a  man  to  do  me  a 
favour,  but  I  'm  going  to  ask  one  of  you. 
It  will  pay  you  to  do  it,"  he  added, 
observing  the  shadow  of  a  doubt  on  Mr. 
Sanders's  face. 

Adelaide's  Bishop  seemed  to  be  very 
serious,  but  there  was  a  twinkle  in  his  eye. 
He  passed  his  hand  over  his  mouth,  in 


78      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

order  to  drive  away  a  smile  that  threatened 
to  become  insubordinate.  "Would  it  be 
troublin'  you  too  much,  Jonas,"  he  said, 
"ef  I  was  to  ax  you  to  pay  me  in  advance  ?" 

"Pish-tush!"  exclaimed  old  Jonas,  with 
a  scowl;  "you  should  get  you  a  fiddle, 
Sanders,  or  a  hurdy-gurdy!  What  I  want 
you  to  do,  the  first  opportunity  you  have, 
is  to  tell  old  Tuttle  that  the  nigger  that 
laid  him  low  in  Judge  Bowden's  cotton- 
patch  is  at  my  house.  He  hates  me  for 
doing  him  a  favour,  and  he  hates  the  nigger 
for  striking  him  when  striking  a  white  man 
was  a  hanging  offence.  He  pretends  to 
be  a  nigger-lover  now  because  he  wants 
office;  but  when  you  tell  [him  that  this 
boy  is  at  my  house,  one  of  two  things  will 
happen:  he  '11  get  together  a  gang  of  men 
of  his  own  kidney  and  try  the  Ku-Klux 
game,  or  he  '11  have  him  arrested  for 
assault  with  intent  to  murder." 

"Bishop,"  said  Adelaide,  who  had  only 
a  dim  idea  of  the  meaning  of  what  she  had 
heard,  "please  don't  let  them  get  my 
Boogerman.  I  killed  him,  you  know,  and 
he  belongs  to  me." 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN     79 

"No,  suh!  no,  suh!"  protested  the  Boo- 
german.  "I  don't  want  Mr.  Tuttle  to  lay 
eyes  on  me.  I  jest  wanted  to  see  my 
mammy,  an'  find  out  where  'bouts  Miss 
Betty  is,  an'  then  I'll  git  out'n  folks' 
way.  I  might  stand  up  an'  tell  Mr.  Tuttle 
the  truth  frum  now  twel  next  year  an'  he 
would  n't  b'lieve  a  word  I  said.  Me  see 
Mr.  Tuttle?  No,  suh!  When  Mr.  Tuttle 
calls  on  me,  I  '11  be  gone  —  done  gone!"t 

" Yasser!"  cried  Lucindy;  "he's  tellin' 
you  de  naked  truf e !  You  reckin  I  'd 
let  my  chile  see  oF  Tuttle?  Well,  not  me! 
Maybe  somebody  else'd  do  it,  but  not 
me!  not  ol'  Lucindy!  Don't  you  never 
b'lieve  dat." 

"You  say  you  can  read  and  write?" 
said  old  Jonas  to  the  Boogerman.  "Well, 
come  into  the  house  here,  and  black  my 
shoes.  Then,  after  that  you  may  preach 


me  a  sermon.'1 


6 Yes!"  exclaimed  Adelaide,  "Cally-Lou 
is  awake  now;  I  saw  her  at  the  window; 
come  in,  Boogerman,  and  let  her  see  you. 
She  is  seven  years  old,  and  has  never  seen 
the  Boogerman." 


80     THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

"First,  let  Lucindy  give  you  something 
to  eat,"  said  old  Jonas,  "but  don't  fail  to 
come  in  and  black  my  shoes!" 

Old  Jonas,  Bishop  Sanders,  and  Ade 
laide  went  into  the  house,  while  the  Booger- 
man  went  into  the  kitchen  with  his  mother, 
where,  seated  by  the  window,  and  as  far 
away  from  the  fireplace  as  ever,  he  told 
the  tale  of  his  adventures  —  a  tale  which 
we  are  not  concerned  with  here.  Mr. 
Sanders  and  old  Jonas  were  soon  absorbed 
in  a  game  of  checkers,  but  they  were  not 
so  completely  lost  in  their  surroundings 
that  they  failed  to  pay  heed  to  Adelaide 
as  she  went  from  room  to  room  calling 
Cally-Lou.  Presently  she  seemed  to  find 
her  in  the  parlour. 

"You  are  pouting,"  she  said,  "or  you'd 
never  be  sitting  in  this  room  where  nobody 
ever  comes.  Why,  they  don't  have  any  fires 
in  here,  and  nothing  to  eat.  Nunky-Punky 
says  if  the  sun  was  to  shine  in  here,  the 
carpet  would  curl  up  and  get  singed.  You 
don't  know  what  it  is  to  be  singed,  do  you  ? 
Well,  it 's  the  way  Mammy  Lucindy  does  the 
chicken  after  all  the  feathers  are  picked  off. 


"You  are  pouting.'    she  said,  'or  you'd  never  be  sitting 
in  this  room  where  nobody  ever  comes '  " 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      81 

She  kindles  the  fire  until  it  blazes,  and  then 
holds  the  chicken  in  it  until  all  its  whiskers 
are  burnt  off.  You  did  n't  know  chickens 
had  whiskers,  did  you  ?  Well,  they  have. 
You  '11  never  find  out  anything  if  you  mope 
in  the  house  and  pout  like  this.  I  did  n't 
know  any  child  could  be  so  hard-headed." 

Old  Jonas  reached  out  his  hand  to  make 
a  move,  and  held  it  suspended  in  the  air 
while  Adelaide  was  talking  to  Cally-Lou. 
"Sanders,"  he  said,  after  awhile,  "do  you 
suppose  the  child  really  thinks  she  's  talk 
ing  to  some  one.  Can  she  see  Cally-Lou  ?" 

"Why  not?"  replied  Mr.  Sanders 
placidly.  "Folks  ain't  half  as  smart  when 
they  grow  up  as  they  is  when  they  're 
little  children.  They  shet  the'r  eyes  to 
one  whole  side  of  life.  Kin  you  fling 
your  mind  back  to  the  time  when  your 
heart  was  soft,  an'  your  eyes  sharp  enough 
for  to  see  what  grown  people  never  seed  ? 
Tell  me  that,  Jonas." 

Old  Jonas  paused  over  a  contemplated 
move,  hesitated  and  sighed.  "Did  you 
ever  have  little  things  happen  to  you," 
Mr.  Sanders  went  on,  frowning  a  little, 


82      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

"that  you  never  told  to  anybody?  Did 
you  ever  dream  dreams  when  you  was 
young  that  kinder  rattled  you  for  the 
longest,  they  was  so  purty  and  true?" 

"I  think  you  have  me  beat,  Sanders," 
responded  old  Jonas;  and  no  one  ever 
knew  whether  he  referred  to  the  game,  or 
to  the  dreams. 

"You  think  so,  maybe,  but  it's  more; 
I  'm  a-gwine  to  make  two  more  moves 
and  wipe  you  off  the  face  of  the  earth!" 
And  it  happened  just  as  Mr.  Sanders  said 
it  would;  two  more  moves,  and  he  cap 
tured  four  men,  and  swept  into  the  royal 
line  where  they  crown  kings.  Old  Jonas 
frowned  and  pushed  the  men  into  the  box 
where  they  were  kept,  with  "I  can't  play 
to-day,  Sanders;  my  mind  isn't  on  the 
game." 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Sanders,  "that's  diffunt 
an'  I  don't  blame  you  much,  for  ef  that 
little  gal  was  loose  in  my  house,  what  games 
I  played  would  be  with  her." 

"Sanders,"  said  old  Jonas,  with  some 
asperity,  "you  don't  mean  to  say  that  a  little 
bit  of  a  child  like  that  would  worry  you!" 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      83 

"Worry  me!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Sanders, 
with  as  scornful  a  look  as  he  could  on  his 
bland  and  benevolent  face.  "Worry  me! 
why,  what  on  earth  do  you  suppose  I  'm 
a-doin'  in  this  house?" 

"I  thought  you  came  to  play  checkers 
with  me,"  old  Jonas  responded. 

"Well,"  Mr.  Sanders  retorted,  "ef  you'd 
put  your  thoughts  in  a  bag  and  shake  'em 
up,  an'  then  pour  'em  out,  you  could  n't 
tell  'em  from  these  flyin'  ants  that  was 
swarmin'  from  under  your  front  steps 
awhile  ago.  No,  Jonas!  Don't  le'  me 
shatter  any  fond  dream  you  've  got  about 
me,  but  sence  Nan  Dorrin'ton  come  into 
the  state  of  Georgy  by  the  Santy  Claus 
route,  this  little  gal  is  the  only  human  bein' 
that  I  ever  wanted  to  pick  up  an'  smother 
wi'  huggin'  an'  kissin'." 

"Is  that  so,  Sanders?"  old  Jonas 
inquired,  straightening  up,  with  a  queer 
sparkle  in  his  little  eyes.  "Why,  I  never 
thought  - 

"Tooby  shore  you  did  n't,"  Mr.  Sanders 
interrupted.  "Nobody  ever  thought  that 
you  had  any  sech  thoughts.  Ef  it  was  a 


84      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

crime  to  think  'em,  an5  you  was  to  git  took 
up  on  sech  a  charge,  the  case'd  be  non- 
prosecuted  by  the  time  it  got  in  the  court 
house.  When  it  comes  to  that  you  've 
got  the  majority  of  folks  wi'  you.  You  '11 
hear  'em  talk  an'  brag  how  fond  they  are 
of  children,  from  morning  tell  night,  but 
jest  let  one  of  the  youngsters  make  a  big 
fuss,  an'  you  '11  see  'em  flinch  like  the  'r 
feelin's  is  hurt.  No  Jonas,  don't  fool 
yourself.  This  world,  an'  not  only  this 
world,  but  this  town  is  full  of  children  so 
lonesome  that  when  I  think  about  it  I  feel 
right  damp;  an'  thar's  times  when  I  set 
an'  think  of  these  little  things  runnin' 
about  wi'  not  a  soul  on  top  of  the  yeth 
for  to  reely  understand  'em,  my  heart  gits 
so  full  that  ef  some  un  was  to  slip  up  behind 
me  an'  put  salt  on  my  back,  I  reely  believe 
I  'd  melt  an'  turn  to  water  like  one  of  these 
gyarden  snails.  It 's  the  honest  fact. 
Now,  that  child  in  thar  —  Adelaide  — 
has  allers  had  some  un  to  understand  her 
an'  know  what  she  was  thinkin'  about; 
allers  tell  she  come  here.  Ef  I  had  n't 
know'd  her  mother,  I  could  tell  jest  by 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      85 

lookin'  at  Adelaide  an'  hearin'  her  talk, 
that  she  was  one  'oman  amongst  ten 
thousan'." 

"You  put  me  in  the  wrong,  Sanders, 
indeed  you  do;  you  may  not  intend  it, 
but  you  certainly  do  me  wrong." 

Mr.  Sanders  regarded  him  with  unfeigned 
astonishment:  "Why,  what  have  I  said, 
Jonas?  Think  it  over!  Is  it  doin'  you 
wrong  for  me  to  say  that  more  than  nine- 
tenths  of  the  little  children  in  the  world 
is  lonesome  ?  Does  it  hurt  you  when  I 
say  that  Cordelia,  your  sister,  was  a  'oman 
among  ten  thousand  ?  If  these  sayin's 
hurt  you,  Jonas,  you  must  have  a  mortal 
tender  conscience  or  a  tnighty  thin  skin. 
I've  allers  had  the  idee  that  you  ain't  a 
bit  wuss  than  you  look  to  be;  do  you  want 
me  to  change  my  mind  ?  Was  thar  ever 
under  the  blue  sky  a  lonesomer  gal  than 
Cordelia,  or  one  easier  to  love?  Did 
you  love  her  as  you  ought  ?  Did  you  treat 
her  right  ever'  day  in  the  year?  Did 
she  ever  have  a  good  time  of  your  makin'  ? 
An'  in  spite  ot  it,  did  n't  she  keep  on 
gittin'  nicer  and  nicer,  an'  purtier  an' 


86      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

purtier,  tell  bimeby,  along  come  a  young 
feller  —  as  good  a  man  as  ever  trod  shoe 
leather  —  an'  snatched  her  right  from  under 
your  wing  ?  An'  did  n't  William  H. 
Sanders,  late  of  said  county,  show  the 
young  fellow  how,  an'  when,  an'  whar  to 
snatch  her?" 

"Did  —  did  you  do  that,  [Sanders? 
Well,  I  'm  glad  I  did  n't  know  it  at  the  time, 
for  I  am  afraid  I  'd  have  shot  you." 

"Shot  me!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Sanders,  his 
blue  eyes  beaming  innocently.!  ;<Well, 
I  've  seed  a  good  many  quare  things  in  my 
day  an'  time,  but  I  've  yit  to  see  the  gun 
that  could  go  off  ahead  of  mine  —  not 
when  thar  was  any  needcessity.  You  say 
you'd  'a'  shot  me;  an'  what  did  I  do? 
I  holp  Cordelia  to  the  fust  an'  last  taste  of 
happiness  she  ever  had  in  this  world.  Did 
you  ever  do  that  much  for  her  ?  You  give 
her  her  vittles  an'  cloze  —  sech  as  they  was 
—  but  do  plain  vittles  an'  plain  cloze  make 
anybody  happy  ?  Ef  they  do,  then  this  old 
ball  we  're  walkin'  on — when  we  ain't  fallin* 
down  —  must  be  runnin'  over  wi'  happi 
ness.  Why,  Jonas,  you  would  n't  let  the 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      87 

gal  have  no  kind  of  company,  male  or 
female;  she  could  n't  go  out,  bekaze  she 
had  nobody  for  to  take  her;  one  little 
picnic  was  all  the  gwine  out  she  done  arter 
she  fell  in  your  hands.  I  tuck  her  to  that 
an'  I  never  was  as  glad  of  anything  in  my 
life  as  I  was  when  she  an'  Dick  Lumsden 
made  up  the'r  little  misunderstandin'  that 
you  had  been  the  occasion  of,  an'  had 
connived  at,  an'  nursed  like  it  was  a  baby. 

"Well,  they  run  away  an'  got  married, 
an'  went  to  housekeepin'  not  forty  yards 
from  your  door  —  an'  you  seen  'em  ever' 
day  of  the  world,  an'  yit  you  done  like 
you  did  n't  know  they  was  in  town.  An' 
wuss  'n  that,"  Mr.  Sanders  continued,  his 
anger  rising  as  he  stirred  the  embers  of 
recollection  —  "wuss'n  that,  you  never 
spoke  a  word  to  Cordelia  from  that  day 
tell  the  day  she  died  —  an'  she  your  own 
sister!  It's  a  mighty  good  thing  that 
Lumsden  was  well  off  while  the  war  lasted. 
When  it  ended,  he  was  as  poor  as  I  was. 
He  had  land,  but  who  kin  eat  land  ?  Thar 
wa'n't  but  one  reely  rich  man  in  the  com- 
munity,  Jonas,  an'  that  man  was  you. 


88      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

You  had  bought  up  all  the  gold  for  a 
hundred  mile  aroun',  but  not  so  much 
as  a  thrip  did  Cordelia  ever  git  out'n  you. 

"What  I'm  a-tellin'  you,  Jonas,  you 
know  as  well  as  I  do;  but  I  jest  want  to 
let  you  know  that  we-all  ain't  been  asleep 
all  this  time.  Lumsden  got  a  good  job 
in  Atlanta,  an'  took  his  wife  an'  baby  thar. 
Him  an'  his  wife  was  so  well  suited  to  one 
another  that  when  one  died,  the  other 
thought  the  best  thing  she  could  do  was 
to  go  an'  jine  him.  Both  on  'em  know'd 
mighty  well  that  the  Lord  would  look  arter 
the  little  gal.  Oh,  I  know  what  you  want 
to  say:  you  want  to  tell  me  that  you  was 
afear'd  Lumsden  would  turn  out  to  be  no 
'count,  bekaze  he  was  wild  when  a  boy  — 
an'  would  have  his  fling  now  an'  then;  but 
that  don't  go  wi'  me,  Jonas.  You  know 
what  he  turned  out  to  be;  you  know  what 
Cordelia  had  to  go  through;  you  know 
that  one  kind  word  from  you  would  'a' 
been  wuth  more  to  her  than  all  the  money 
you  've  got  in  the  world;  an'  yit,  your 
pride,  or  your  venom  —  you  kin  name  it 
an'  keep  it  —  hender'd  you  from  makin' 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      89 

that  poor  child  as  happy  as  she  mought 
'a'  been.  An'  I  '11  tell  you,  Jonas,  jest  as 
shore  as  the  Lord  lives  an'  the  sun  shines 
on  a  troubled  world,  you  '11  have  to  pay 
for  it." 

Several  times  during  this  remarkable 
tirade  —  remarkable  because  it  was 
delivered  with  some  vehemence,  right  in 
old  Jonas's  teeth  —  he  made  an  effort  to 
interrupt  Mr.  Sanders,  but  the  latter  had 
put  him  down  with  a  gesture  that  a  novel 
writer  would  call  imperious.  Imperious 
or  not,  it  gave  pause  to  whatever  old  Jonas 
had  to  say  in  his  own  behalf;  and  it  must 
have  all  been  true,  too,  for  the  old  fellow 
finally  turned  away,  pulled  his  hat  down 
over  his  eyes,  and  pretended  to  be  looking 
at  something  interesting  that  he  saw  from 
the  window.  Mr.  Sanders,  when  he  had 
concluded,  was  surprised  to  find  that  old 
Jonas  seemed  to  be  more  hurt  than  angry; 
and  he  would  have  gone  into  the  parlour 
where  Adelaide  was  still  playing  with 
Cally-Lou,  but  old  Jonas  turned  around 
and  faced  him. 

"You  've  said  a  great  many  things,  San- 


90      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

ders,  that  nobody  else  would  have  said, 
and  I  gather  that  you  consider  me  to  be  a 
pretty  mean  fellow;  but  did  it  ever  occur 
to  you  that  perhaps  I  'm  not  as  mean  as 
I  seem  to  be?  Did  it  ever  occur  to  you 
that  a  man  could  be  so  shy  and  suspicious 
that  he  was  compelled  to  close  his  mind 
against  what  you  call  love  and  affection; 
and,  that,  with  his  mind  thus  closed,  he 
could  cease  to  believe  in  such  things  ?  I 
don't  suppose  you  follow  me;  but  it's  the 
simple  truth.  That  child  in  there  won't 
be  put  to  bed  at  night  until  she  kisses  me 
good-night,  and,  even  then  she  wont  go 
until  I  kiss  her.  Think  of  that,  Sanders ! 
No  matter  what  you  and  other  people  may 
think,  the  child  does  n't  believe  that  I  am 


a  mean  man.': 


"I  could  tell  you,  Jonas,  that  Adelaide 
ain't  old  enough  for  to  tell  a  mean  man 
ef  she  met  him  in  the  road.  But  I  'II  not 
do  that,  bekaze  I  know  mighty  well  that 
you  ain't  as  mean  as  you  try  to  make  out. 
Thar  never  was  a  man  on  this  green  globe 
that  did  n't  have  a  tender  spot  in  his  gizzard 
for  them  that  know'd  jest  when  an'  whar 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      91 

to  tetch  it.  Ef  I  took  you  at  your  face 
value,  Jonas,  not  only  would  I  never  put 
my  foot  in  your  house,  but  I  would  n't 
speak  to  you  on  the  street.  I  tell  you  that 
flat  an'  plain." 

The  conversation  of  the  two  men  had 
been  carried  on  in  a  tone  something  louder 
than  was  absolutely  necessary,  especially 
on  the  part  of  Mr.  Sanders.  Indeed,  finical 
folk  would  have  said  that  the  rosy-faced 
Georgian  was  actually  rude;  but  he  had 
found  an  opportunity  to  deliver  himself 
of  a  burden  that  had  long  been  a  weight 
on  his  mind,  and  he  did  it  in  no  uncertain 
terms.  He  fully  expected  either  to  find 
himself  in  the  midst  of  a  row,  or  to 
be  ordered  from  old  Jonas's  house,  and 
he  had  prepared  himself  for  both  emer 
gencies.  But  instead  of  offending  the 
lonely  old  money-lender,  he  had  merely 
set  him  to  thinking;  and  his  thoughts  were 
not  very  pleasant  ones.  He  heard  every 
word  that  Mr.  Sanders  said,  and  it  was  true, 
but  even  as  he  listened,  the  whole  panorama 
of  his  past  life  moved  before  him,  and  he 
could  see  himself  in  a  narrow  perspective, 


92      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

living  his  cheerless  childhood,  his  almost 
friendless  youth,  and  his  lonely  manhood. 
In  those  days,  long  gone,  he  had  had  his 
dreams,  even  as  now  Adelaide  had  hers, 
but  their  existence  was  brief,  and  their  date 
inconsiderable.  He  pitied  the  child,  the 
youth,  and  the  young  man,  but  strange 
to  say,  he  had  no  pity  for  the  grown  man 
to  whom  Mr.  Sanders  was  reading  one  of 
his  cornfield  lectures.  He  knew  that  what 
he  was,  was  the  direct  outgrowth  and 
development  of  all  that  had  gone  before. 

His  sister  had  never  understood  him, 
and  was  afraid  of  him.  He,  silent  and 
self-contained,  never  sought  her  confidence 
nor  gave  her  his.  A  word  from  her,  a 
word  from  him,  would  have  made  clear 
everything  that  was  dark,  or  doubtful,  or 
suspicious  in  their  attitude  toward  each 
other.  He  thought  that  her  silence  spelled 
contempt  of  a  certain  kind,  and  she  was 
sure  that  she  had  his  hearty  dislike.  And 
so  it  went,  as  such  matters  do  in  this  world 
where  no  one  save  a  chosen  few  see  more 
than  an  inch  beyond  their  noses. 

I  could  fetch  Adelaide  on  the  scene  just 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      93 

by  waving  my  hand,  but  there  is  no  need 
to,  for  the  tone  in  which  Mr.  Sanders 
pitched  his  lecture  was  quite  sufficient. 
Her  quick,  firm  steps  sounded  on  the  floor 
with  such  emphasis,  that  any  one  acquainted 
with  the  lady  would  have  known  that  she 
was  indignant.  But  her  careful  training 
told  even  here,  for  composure  held  her 
irritation  in  check,  and  her  refinement 
showed  in  her  attitude  and  gestures,  giving 
her  small  person  a  cuteness  and  prettiness 
quite  out  of  the  common. 

:'Why,  good  gracious  me,  Bishop!  You 
don't  know  how  many  noises  you  're  mak 
ing.  How  can  Cally-Lou  sleep  in  the 
house  ?  She  sleeps  a  good  deal  lately,  and 
I  'm  afraid  she  '11  be  sick,  poor  little  thing, 
if  she  wakes  up  quicker  than  she  ought." 

"What!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Sanders,  in  a 
loud  and  an  excited  whisper.  "Now,  don't 
tell  me  that  Cally-Lou  has  gone  and  drapped 
off  to  sleep  ag'in!  Why,  at  this  rate,  she  '11 
turn  night  into  day,  an'  vicy-versy,  an' 
Time,  old  an'  settled  as  he  is,  will  git  turned 
wrong-sud-out'erds,  an'  ever'thing  '11  git 
so  tangled  up  that  you  can't  tell  howdy 


94      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

from  good-bye,  ner  ef  the  clock's  tickin' 
backerds  or  forrerds;  we  '11  git  so  turned 
around  that  we  can't  tell  grasshoppers 
from  turkey-buzzards.  I  'm  reely  sorry 
she  did  n't  see  you  shoot  the  Boogerman, 
be  jigger'd  ef  I  ain't.  The  sight  of  that 
would  'a'  made  her  open  her  eyes  wider 
than  they  've  been  sence  I  fust  know'd  her." 

In  reply  to  this,  Adelaide  said  she 
was  afraid  Cally-Lou  was  n't  very  well. 
"Won't  you  come  in  and  see  her,  Bishop? 
The  truly-ann  Bishop  used  to  come  to 
see  my  mother  before  they  sent  her  where 
my  papa  was  —  the  place  where  people 
get  well  when  they  're  sick.  Yes !  and 
he  used  to  bring  things  in  his  pocket  — 
all  sorts  of  goodies  —  gum-drops  and  candy 
kisses,  and  he  said  that  if  I  ate  them,  all 
by  myself,  he  would  n't  be  hoarse  in  his 
throat  any  more  when  he  had  to  holler 
loud  at  the  sinners  to  keep  them  from  goin 
to  the  Bad  Place;  and  once  when  I  ate  a 
whole  heap  of  them  at  once,  he  cleared 
his  throat,  the  truly-ann  Bishop  did,  and 
said  he  was  almost  cured." 

"I'll  shorely  try  that  trick  ef  it'll  he'p 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      95 

me  for  to  be  a  truly-ann  Bishop,  bekaze 
I  've  been  so  hoarse  lately  that  I  can't  see 
my  own  voice  in  the  lookin' -glass,  no 
matter  how  I  holler.  Nothin'  shows  up 
in  the  glass  but  a  little  muddly  mist,  an' 
I  have  to  wipe  that  off  wi'  my  [red  silk 
han'kcher.  Speakin'  of  Cally-Lou,  when 
had  I  oughter  pay  my  party  call  ?" 

"She  does  n't  like  for  anybody  to  see  her 
because  she  is  n't  right  white,"  Adelaide 
explained,  "but  she's  asleep  now,  and  you 
might  come  in  to  see  her  now  if  you  '11 
walk  easy." 

Talk  about  burglars!  Talk  about 
thieves  in  the  night!  Talk  about  wild 
animals  with  padded  feet  creeping  and 
stealing  on  their  prey!  All  of  them  could 
have  taken  lessons  in  their  craftiness  from 
Adelaide  and  Mr.  Sanders.  Yes,  and  for 
a  brief  moment  or  two  from  old  Jonas,  for 
he  joined  the  creeping  procession,  impelled 
by  some  mysterious  motive.  They  stole  into 
the  darkened  parlour,  Adelaide  in  advance, 
and  paused  when  she  waved  her  hand. 
Then  she  pointed  to  the  darkest  corner. 

Mr.   Sanders  will   tell  you   to  this    day 


96      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

that  he  thought  he  saw  something  dim  and 
dark  huddled  there  —  some  wavering  shape 
that  had  no  outlines;  but  just  at  the  critical 
moment,  just  when  they  were  all  about  to 
see  Cally-Lou,  what  should  old  Jonas  do 
but  stumble  against  a  chair,  as  he  craned 
his  neck  forward  ?  Well,  of  course,  with 
such  awkwardness  as  this  on  the  part  of  a 
man  old  enough  to  be  Adelaide's  grand 
father,  their  scheme  was  ruined.  Cally- 
Lou  heard  the  noise,  opened  her  eyes,  and 
fled  from  the  room  so  nimbly  and  with  such 
dispatch  that  none  of  them  could  see  her. 
Even  Adelaide  only  caught  the  faintest 
glimpse  of  her  as  she  whisked  out  of  the 
room,  and  all  she  could  say,  was,  "Did 
you  ever  see  any  one  so  foolish?"  Then 
she  ran  after  Cally-Lou,  pursuing  her  into 
the  sitting-room  and  then  into  the  library, 
where  she  seemed  to  have  caught  her,  for 
the  others  heard  her  upbraiding  and  scold 
ing  her  in  the  style  approved  by  all  parents 
who  are  strict  disciplinarians. 

"Jonas,"  said  Mr.  Sanders,  "did  you 
see  anything  ?  Did  n't  you  notice  'some- 
thin'  in  the  corner  —  it  mought  'a'  been 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      97 

nothin'  an'  then,  ag'in,  it  mought  'a'  been 
the  biggest  thing  mortual  eyes  ever  gazed 
on  —  did  n't  you  see  some  thin'  like  a 
shadder?" 

Old  Jonas's  reply  was  very  prompt.  He 
smacked  his  lips  as  though  he  tasted  some 
thing  nice.  "No,  Sanders!  I  didn't  see 
anything,  and  what 's  more,  I  did  n't 
expect  to  see  anything." 

Mr.  Sanders  opened  wide  his  eyes  and 
stared  at  old  Jonas  as  hard  as  if  he  had 
been  some  rare  kind  of  curiosity  placed 
on  exhibition  for  the  first  time. 

"I  hope  you  '11  know  me  next  time  you 
see  me!"  exclaimed  old  Jonas,  somewhat 
snappishly.  ''  Do  you  want  me  to  tell 
you  I  saw  something,  when  in  fact  I  saw 
nothing?" 

Mr.  Sanders  passed  his  hand  over  his 
face,  as  though  the  gesture  would  better 
enable  him  to  contemplate  the  sorrowful 
condition  of  his  companion.  "Jonas,"  he 
said  with  a  sigh  as  heavy  as  if  he  had  been  a 
sleepy  cow  in  a  big  pasture,  "ef  you  'd  'a' 
had  your  two  eyes  put  out  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  arter  you  were  born,  you  could  n't  talk 


98      THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

any  more  like  a  blind  man  than  you  did  jest 
then.  You  said  you  seed  nothin,'  an'  a  blind 
man  could  say  the  same,  day  or  night." 

The  reply  that  old  Jonas  made  was 
characteristic;  he  pulled  his  hat  a  little 
further  down  over  his  ears,  and  said  nothing. 
Fortunately  for  him  perhaps,  there  was  a 
timely  diversion  at  that  moment.  Some 
one  raised  the  big  knocker  on  the  door  and 
let  it  fall  again.  Such  a  bang  had  not  been 
heard  in  the  house  for  many  a  long  day; 
it  set  the  frightened  echoes  flying.  Adelaide 
heard  them,  and  they  must  have  been 
following  her  pretty  close,  for  she  ran  into 
the  sitting-room,  crying: 

' '  Good  gracious,  Bishop !  Gracious  good 
ness,  Nunky-Punky!  what  was  that?  Did 
some  one  shoot  at  my  Boogerman  ?  He  's 
already  been  kill'ded  once,  and  he  ought 
not  to  be  kill'ded  again." 

Neither  of  the  men  could  give  her  any 
satisfaction,  and  so  she  ran  into  the  parlour 
and  peeped  through  the  blinds  of  a  window 
that  commanded  a  view  of  the  piazza. 
Almost  instantly  she  came  running  back 
again,  pretended  amazement  in  her  eyes. 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN      99 

"I  know  who  it  is!"  she  said  in  a  tragic 
whisper.  "  It 's  my  wild  Injun-rubber  man, 
and,  oh,  my  goodness!  he  looks  vigorous 
and  vexified!  Where  shall  we  hideP" 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  it  had  been  such  a 
long  time  since  the  knocker  had  been  used 
that  a  big  fat  spider  had  spun  a  silken 
arbour  there.  Old  Jonas  hesitated  so  long 
about  responding  that  Lucindy,  who  had 
heard  the  noise  in  the  kitchen,  put  her 
head  in  the  back  door,  with  the  query: 

"Did  any  er  you-all  turn  loose  a  gun  in 
dar  ?  Seem  like  I  sho  heern  a  gun  go  off!" 

Lucindy's  voice  seemed  to  have  a  reassur 
ing  effect  on  old  Jonas,  for  he  brushed  some 
dust  specks  from  the  front  of  his  coat, 
straightened  himself,  and  started  for  the 
front  door  which  was  the  centre  of  the 
disturbance.  As  he  made  his  way  along 
the  hall,  Mr.  Sanders,  in  obedience  to  an 
imperious  gesture  from  Adelaide,  disap 
peared  behind  a  huge  rocker,  while  the 
child  concealed  herself  behind  the  door. 
Mr.  Sanders  took  off  his  hat,  whipped  out 
his  red  silk  handkerchief,  threw  it  over  his 
head  and  tied  it  under  his  chin.  Adelaide 


100    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

had  a  partial  view  of  her  Bishop,  and  the 
sight  she  saw  seemed  to  be  too  much  for 
her:  she  gave  a  gasp,  and  sank  to  the 
floor  as  though  in  great  pain. 

They  heard  old  Jonas  urging  the  visitor 
to  come  in,  while  the  other  protested  that 
he  only  wanted  to  say  a  word  to  Mr.  San 
ders,  which  could  be  said  at  the  door  as 
well,  if  not  better,  than  anywhere  else. 
Old  Jonas  called  Mr.  Sanders,  but  no  one 
answered  him.  Then  Adelaide  and  her 
Bishop  heard  old  Jonas  and  the  visitor 
coming  along  the  hallway.  "I  don't  want 
to  trouble  you  at  all,  Mr.  Whipple.  They 
told  me  at  the  tavern  that  Mr.  Sanders 
was  here,  and  I  just  wanted  to  put  a  flea  in 
his  ear  about  a  little  matter." 

:'Well,  just  come  right  in,"  responded 
old  Jonas,  cordially.  "Sanders!"  he  called. 

Adelaide  ventured  to  glance  at  Mr. 
Sanders  again,  and  this  time  she  could 
not  restrain  herself.  She  gave  utterance 
to  an  ear-piercing  shriek,  which  was  more 
than  sustained  by  a  blood-curdling  yell 
from  Mr.  Sanders! 


PART  IV 

And  now,  good  comrades,  what  shall  it  be, 
A  dungeon  cell  or  a  gallows  tree  ? 

—  Varner's  Lynching  Songs. 

NEVER,  since  the  day  you  were  born, 
have  you  seen  such  a  jump,  or 
heard  such  a  grunt  as  old  Jonas  gave. 
You  would  have  thought  the  Ku-Klux 
had  him,  for  this  was  the  year  Eighteen- 
Hundred-and-under-the-Bushes,  with  old 
Raw-Head-and-Bloody-Bones  keeping  his 
green  eyes  wide  open.  For  one  brief  and 
fleeting  moment,  old  Jonas's  whole  body 
seemed  to  be  wrenched  out  of  socket, 
as  Mr.  Sanders  said  afterward;  his  hat 
fell  off,  and  it  was  as  much  as  he  could  do 
to  keep  his  feet.  He  scowled,  and  then 
he  tried  to  smile,  but  the  scowl  felt  very 
much  at  home  on  his  wrinkled  countenance, 
and  refused  to  be  ousted  by  a  feeble  smile. 
Even  the  visitor,  whose  name  was  Augus 
tus  Tidwell,  was  startled,  and  he  showed 
it  in  his  face,  but  he  recovered  much  sooner 

101 


102    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

than  old  Jonas  did.  He  was  one  of  the 
most  prominent  lawyers  in  that  whole 
section,  where  prominent  lawyers  were 
plentiful.  He  was  dignified,  because  he 
had  to  live  up  to  his  position,  but  all  his 
dignity  was  dispersed  by  Adelaide  and  her 
Bishop.  Adelaide  called  Mr.  Tidwell  her 
Injun-rubber  because  he  wore  his  hair 
long,  so  that  it  fell  in  glistening  waves 
over  his  coat  collar.  This  gave  him  a  very 
romantic  appearance,  and  when  engaged 
in  the  practice  of  law  he  always  made  the 
most  of  it;  he  could  tousel  his  hair  and 
look  the  picture  of  rage;  he  could  push  it 
straight  back  from  his  wide  forehead,  and 
seem  to  stand  for  innocence  and  virtue; 
and  he  could  ruffle  it  up  on  one  side,  and 
tell  juries  how  they  should  find  in  cases 
where  the  interests  of  his  clients  were 
concerned. 

But  dignity  and  a  romantic  appearance 
could  n't  stand  before  Adelaide  and  her 
Bishop.  Mr.  Sanders,  with  the  red  silk 
handkerchief  thrown  over  his  head  and 
tied  under  his  chin,  was  a  sight  you  would 
have  gone  far  to  see.  He  had  such  mar- 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    103 

vellous  control  of  his  features  that,  one 
moment  he  had  the  appearance  of  an  over 
grown  baby,  and  the  next,  he  was  the 
living  image  of  an  old  country  granny  who 
had  come  to  town  to  swap  a  pound  of  snow- 
white  butter  for  a  hank  or  two  of  spun- 
truck.  The  fact  is,  Adelaide  was  com 
pelled  to  roll  on  the  floor  and  kick,  so 
acute  were  the  paroxysms  of  laughter. 
Mr.  Sanders  laughed,  too,  but  when  Ade 
laide  glanced  at  him  he  would  wipe  the 
smile  from  his  face  and  look  as  solemn  as 
a  real  truly-ann  Bishop ;  and  this  was  worse 
than  laughing,  tor  Adelaide  would  be 
compelled  to  roll  over  the  floor  again. 

Old  Jonas  did  n't  have  any  of  the  pains 
that  come  from  laughter.  At  first  he  was 
frightened  nearly  to  death  at  the  manifesta 
tions  for  which  Adelaide  and  her  Bishop 
were  responsible;  then  the  reaction  was 
toward  hot  anger,  which  finally  developed 
into  a  feeling  of  impatient  disgust  at  the 
spectacle  which  Mr.  Sanders  presented. 

"  Sanders,"  he  said,  sharply  and  earnestly, 
"if  I  didn't  know  you  I'd  be  willing  to 
swear  you  had  gone  crazy!  Why,  who 


104    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

under  the  blue  sky  ever  heard  of  a  grown 
man  indulging  in  such  antics  and  capers! 
It 's  simply  scandalous,  that 's  what]  it  is." 

"It  is  that-away!"  blandly  remarked 
Mr.  Sanders.  "An*  more  especially  it 's 
a  scandal  when  me  an'  that  child  thar 
can't  have  five  minnits'  fun  all  by  our 
selves  but  what  you  come  a-stickin'  your 
head  in  the  door,  an'  try  for  to  turn  a 
somerset  wi'out  liftin'  your  feet  off'n  the 
floor!  I  leave  it  to  Gus  Tidwell  thar  ef 
anybody  in  this  house  has  cut  up  more 
capers  than  what  you  have.  I  wish  you 
could  'a'  seed  yourself  when  you  was 
flinging  your  hat  on  the  floor,  an'  tryin'  for 
to  keep  your  feet  in  a  slanchindic'lar  posi 
tion,  an'  workin'  an'  twistin'  your  mouth 
like  you  was  tryin'  for  to  git  it  on  top  of 
your  head  —  ef  you  could  'a'  seed  all  that 
you  'd  agree  wi'  me  that  thar  wa  'n't  no 
room  in  this  house  for  youth  an'  innocence." 

Adelaide  took  advantage  of  the  conver 
sation  to  run  out  of  the  room  to  see  if  Cally- 
Lou  had  been  frightened  by  all  the  noise; 
and  presently  the  men  heard  her  relating 
all  the  circumstances  to  her  brown  Ariel, 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    105 

and  laughing  almost  as  heartily  at  her  own 
recital  as  she  laughed  when  Mr.  Sanders 
winked  at  her  with  the  red  handkerchief 
on  his  head. 

"  Who  is  she  talking  to  ?"  Lawyer  Tidwell 
inquired. 

"Just  talking  to  herself,"  responded  old 
Jonas,  with  unnecessary  tartness. 

"Don't  you  nigh  believe  it,  Gus,"  said 
Mr.  Sanders.  "She  ain't  twins,  an'  she's 
talkin'  to  some  un  that  she  can  see  an' 
we  can't.  Why,  ef  thar  wa'n't  nothin' 
thar,  she  'd  be  the  finest  play-actor  that 
ever  played  in  a  county  courthouse." 

"She  is  certainly  a  wonderful  child," 
said  the  lawyer.  "Lucindy  brought  her 
to  see  my  wife  the  other  day,  and  I  hap 
pened  to  be  at  home.  I  never  enjoyed 
anybody's  company  so  well  on  a  short 
acquaintance  as  I  did  hers.  My  wife  is 
daft  about  her,  and  she  believes  with  you, 
Mr.  Sanders,  that  the  Cally-Lou  she  talks 
about  so  much  is  really  her  companion." 

:'Why,  tooby  shore,  Gus.  Children  see 
an'  know  a  heap  things  that  they  don'  say 
nothin'  about  for  fear  they  '11  be  laughed 


106    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

at.  All  you  've  got  to  do  to  see  Cally- 
Lou  is  turn  your  head  quick  enough.  I 
ain't  limber  enough  myself,  an'  I  reckon 
I  never  will  be  any  more." 

"Speaking  of  Lucindy,  Mr.  Sanders, 
I  wanted  to  see  you  about  some  little  busi 
ness  of  hers,  and  it 's  business  that  she 
does  n't  know  anything  about.  Moreover, 
she  would  n't  help  matters  much  if  she 
knew  about  it.  I  don't  know  how  Mr. 
Whipple  feels,  but  I  know  very  well  how 
you  and  I  feel.  You  don't  need  to  be  told 
that  nearly  all  the  negroes  have  fallen  out 
of  sympathy  with  the  whites;  but  there 
are  a  few  we  can  still  trust  and  have  a 
genuine  friendship  for  —  and  Lucindy  is 
one  of  them.  Now,  I  was  sitting  in  my 
office  to-day  reading,  when  all  of  a  sudden 
I  heard  some  one  talking  in  low  tones.  I 
did  n't  hear  everything  that  was  said,  but 
I  heard  enough  to  learn  that  Lucindy's 
son  Randall  is  somewhere  in  the  county." 

"He  shorely  is  for  a  fact!"  exclaimed 
Mr.  Sanders.  "Right  in  the  state,  county, 
town,  an'  deestrick  aforesaid.  Go  on, 
Gus." 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN     107 

''  Well  you  know,  he 's  the  boy  that  came 
within  an  ace  of  putting  old  Tuttle  out  of 
business  in  1864.  But  now  old  Tuttle 
is  the  Radical  Ordinary,  elected  by  the 
niggers,  and  he  is  afraid  to  bring  suit  against 
Randall  in  the  Superior  Court.  But  he 
wants  the  boy  put  out  of  business  if  it  can 
be  done  without  mixing  his  name  with  the 
affair.  I  could  n't  overhear  all  that  was 
said,  but  I  heard  enough  to  know  that  old 
Tuttle  intends  to  have  Randall  arrested 
on  a  charge  of  assault  with  intent  to  mur 
der,  and  run  him  out  of  the  county.  Now, 
I  would  n't  care  a  snap  of  my  finger  if 
it  was  n't  for  the  fact  that  Randall  is 
Lucindy's  son,  and  he  must  be  taken  care 
of.  I  don't  know  how  you  gentlemen  feel 
about  it,  but  that 's  the  way  I  feel." 

"Ef  it'll  do  you  any  good  to  know," 
Mr.  Sanders  remarked,  "me  an'  Jonas 
feel  exactly  the  same  way;  an'  what's 
more,  we  don't  intend  that  Randall  shall 
be  run  off.  He  's  right  here  on  this  lot, 
an'  here  he  's  agwine  to  stay,  ef  I  have 
any  sesso  in  the  matter.  I  '11  pay  his  board, 
Jonas,  ef  that  '11  suit  you,  bekaze  I  've 


108    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

got  a  crow  to  pick  wi'  ol'  Tuttle,  an'  when 
I  git  it  picked  he  '11  have  more  loose  feathers 
than  he  kin  walk  off  wi'.  Jest  mark  that 
down." 

"Pish-tush!"  exclaimed  old  Jonas, 
smacking  his  thin  lips,  and  frowning.  He 
rose  and  went  to  the  back  door,  and 
presently  the  others  heard  him  calling 
Randall,  who  seemed  to  be  somewhat  slow 
in  answering  —  so  much  so  that  Lucindy's 
voice  was  added  to  his. 

"Randall!"  she  cried,  "what  in  de 
name  er  goodness  you  doin'  in  dar  ?  Don't 
you  hear  Mr.  Whipple  hollain'  atter  you  ? 
Look  like  you  des  ez  triflin'  now  as  what 
you  wuz  when  you  loped  off!" 

Randall  replied  after  a  while,  and  old 
Jonas's  command  was,  "Come  here,  you 
no  account  scoundrel,  and  black  my 
shoes!" 

'Why,  Jonas,"  said  Mr.  Sanders,  when 
the  former  had  returned  to  the  room,  "ain't 
you  afraid  you  '11  take  cold  ?  You  ain't 
had  your  shoes  blacked  sence  the  war!" 

The  only  reply  old  Jonas  made  to  that 
was  in  the  shape  of  a  scowl.  Randall  came 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    109 

running  with  a  puzzled  expression  on  his 
face.  He  dropped  his  hat  somewhere  out 
side  the  door,  and  went  in. 

"They  tell  me,"  said  old  [Jonas,  some 
what  curtly,  "that  you  are  studying  to 
be  a  bishop." 

"That 's  what  I  laid  off  in  my  mind,  suh. 
It  come  to  me  when  I  hear  um  prayin'  an' 
singin';  I  allow  to  myself,  I  did,  that  ef 
it 's  all  ez  purty  an'  ez  nice  ez  that,  they 
wa'  n't  no  thin'  gwine  to  keep  me  from  bein' 
a  minister  when  the  time  got  ripe.  That 's 
what  I  said  to  myself,  suh." 

"Well,"  remarked  Mr.  Sanders,  reassur 
ingly,  "you've  already  got  to  be  a  Booger- 
man,  an'  I  reckon  that 's  long  step  forrerd." 

"Black  my  shoes!"  commanded  old 
Jonas  in  a  tone  that  was  almost  brutal. 
Randall  hustled  around  until  he  found  an 
old  box  of  blacking  that  had  been  in  the 
kitchen  for  many  years.  With  this  and 
an  old  brush  that  Lucindy  found  in 
some  impossible  place,  he  proceeded  to 
give  old  Jonas's  shoes  a  polish  that  caused 
them  to  shine  brightly. 

"Don't    you    think    it    is    beneath    the 


110    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

dignity  of  a  pastor  to  black  shoes?"  old 
Jonas  asked. 

Randall  chuckled.  "That's  the  way 
some  white  folks  'd  feel  about  it,"  he 
answered;  "but  me  —  I'm  black,  an'  I 
ain't  got  no  business  for  to  feel  so  —  not 
me!  St.  Paul,  or  it  may  be  St.  Timothy, 
he  says,  somewhere,  I  dunner  'zackly 
where,  'What  your  han'  finds  to  do,  let 
your  heart  commend.'  " 

"Wa'n't  it  Shakespeare  said  that?" 
Mr.  Sanders  inquired. 

"It  mought  'a'  been,  suh,"  replied  Ran 
dall.  "All  I  know,  it  was  some  of  them 
Bible  folks.  They  say,  'Do  what  yo'  han' 
finds  to  do,  an'  do  it  better  'n  some  un  else 
could  'a'  done  it.'  That 's  why  you  see 
these  shoes  lookin'  like  they're  spang  new." 

:'Why,  I  should  have  thought  that  a 
man  who  is  studying  to  be  a  bishop," 
said  old  Jonas,  sharply,  "would  think  him 
self  above  blacking  anybody's  shoes." 

"It  may  be  so,  suh,  in  some  parts  of  the 
country  and  amongst  some  people,  but  it 
ain't  that-away  wid  me  —  I  may  come  to 
it,  suh,  but  I  ain't  come  to  it  yit." 


'  That 's  why  you  see  these  shoes  lookin'  like  they  're  spang  new '  " 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    111 

Randall  finished  the  shoes,  and  offered 
to  black  those  of  the  other  men  present, 
but  they  declined,  and  then  old  Jonas 
fished  around  in  his  pocket  for  a  shin- 
plaster  small  enough  to  fit  the  job  that 
had  been  done.  He  found  a  ragged  one 
that  faintly  promised  to  pay  the  bearer 
five  cents  on  demand,  but  Randall  recoiled 
from  it,  and  held  up  his  hands  in  protest. 
"No,  suh!  Oh,  no,  suh!  It  was  wuth 
all  I  done  jest  to  hear  you-all  gentermens 
talkin'  kinder  friendly  like.  Ef  you-all  had 
all  the  trouble  I  uv  done  had,  all  the  time 
dodgin'  an'  lookin  roun'  cornders  fer  fear 
er  Mr.  Tuttle  er  some  er  his  kinnery  — 
he  's  got  um  all  up  dar  whar  I  been  —  you  'd 
be  mo'  than  thankful  for  to  hear  some  un 
talkin'  like  de  nex'  minnit  ain't  fgwine  ter 
be  de  las'.  I  done  got  it  proned  inter  me 
that  I  'm  gwine  for  to  be  Ku-Klucked  long 
'fo'  I  have  gray  ha'r.  You  dunner  how 
nice  it  is  for  to  have  white  folks  talkin' 
like  they  ain't  gwine  to  kill  you  yet  awhile." 

To  any  one  who  knew  little  of  the  negro 
race,  Randall's  remarks  would  have  sounded 
tremendously  like  a  sly  joke,  with  a  little 


112    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

irony  thrown  in  for  good  measure;  but 
though  the  negro's  voice  was  soft  and 
deliberate,  he  was  terribly  in  earnest,  and 
those  who  heard  him  understood  and 
appreciated  this  simple  recital  of  a  harrow 
ing  experience  already  behind  him,  and  his 
lively  fear  of  something  worse  to  come. 

"Well,  when  you  get  to  be  a  bishop," 
remarked  old  Jonas,  "I  expect  you  to  come 
and  black  my  shoes." 

"I  '11  do  it,  suh,  an'  be  glad  to  do  it. 
Des  take  yo'  stan'  anywhere,  jest  so  it 's 
a  public  place,  an'  holla  at  me,  an'  tell 
me  you  want  yo'  shoes  blacked.  I  '11 
do  it,  suh,  in  the  face  of  ten  thousand." 

"I  believe  you  would!"  exclaimed  old 
Jonas  almost  gleefully. 

"You  don't  hafter  b'lieve  me,  suh; 
jest  holla  at  me,  an'  yo  shoes  '11  be  blacked." 

With  that,  Randall  started  out  of  the 
room,  but  Mr.  Sanders  raised  his  hand. 
"B'ar  in  mind,  Boogerman,  that  you're 
not  to  leave  the  lot  after  dark.  Old  Tuttle 
is  a  rank  Radical,  an'  a  nigger-lover  for 
what  revenue  thar  is  in  it,  but  he  's  fixin' 
up  his  tricks  for  to  give  you  a  taste  of  the 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    113 

Radical-Republican  movement,  an'  he 's 
got  to  be  watched.  We  '11  do  the  watchin' 
ef  you  '11  do  the  hidin'." 

"I  '11  be  more  than  glad  to  do  that,  suh," 
said  Randall,  with  invincible  politeness 
-  "mo'  than  glad.  I  uv  got  so  now,  sence 
freedom  come,  that  I  can  hide  most  as 
good  as  I  can  eat;  an'  when  I  say  that, 
you  may  know  it  means  sump'n." 

"I  reckon  it  does,"  said  old  Jonas, 
"something  to  me!" 

Randall  laughed  pleasantly,  and  bowed 
himself  out.  In  a  moment  the  men  in  the 
sitting-room  heard  him  talking  to  Adelaide 
in  the  entry. 

"My  goodness,  little  mistiss!  A  little 
mo'  an'  you  'd  a  skeer'd  me  crooked  - 
an'  I  ain't  right  straight  now.  I  had 
de  idee  that  I  was  to  be  the  Boogerman, 
but  ef  you  go  on  this-a-way,  you  '11  be  the 
Boogerman." 

"Oho!"  laughed  Adelaide;  "don't  you 
know  that  a  young  lady  could  never  be 
a  Boogerman?" 

:<Well,  I  declare!"  Randall  exclaimed 
almost  joyously;  "that  certainly  is  so  in 


114    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

these  days  of  tribulation.  But  that  ain't 
all;  I  uv  got  a  bigger  Boogerman  than  you 
uv  got.  How  is  Miss  Cally-Lou?" 

"Oh,  shucks!"  replied  Adelaide,  "you 
don't  have  to  call  her  miss;  she  ain't 
right  white.  Don't  you  see  her  standing 
here  by  me?" 

"Well,  suh!"  exclaimed  the  Boogerman 
in  the  tone  of  one  who  has  just  made  a 
remarkable  discovery.  "Ef  I  don't,  I  most 
does;  an'  when  you  git  that  close  to  Cally- 
Lou  it 's  the  same  as  seein'  her.  She  don't 
look  right  well  to  me,"  said  the  Boogerman 
at  a  venture. 

"Then  you  do  see  her,"  remarked  Ade 
laide;  "she  hasn't  been  well  for  a  day 
or  two." 

"Make  her  git  outdoors,  an'  take  the 
fresh  air,"  suggested  the  Boogerman. 

This  suggestion  seemed  to  meet  the  views 
of  Adelaide,  for  she  went  out  into  the  yard, 
crying,  "Come  along,  Cally-Lou!  4Come 
along!" 

Old  Jonas  stirred  uneasily  in  his  chair. 
"Do  you  know,  Sanders,"  he  said,  "that 
my  grandmother  had  a  little  mulatto 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    115 

girl    named    Cally-Lou.     As    I    remember 
her,  she  was  the  smartest  little  thing  that 

ever  ran  about  on  two  legs.   I  wonder 

Old  Jonas  paused,  and  Mr.  Sanders  did  n't 
give  him  time  to  straighten  out  his  thought. 

"No,  Jonas;  you  don't  wonder,  an'  you 
need  n't  pertend  to.  Nuther  here  nor  here- 
arter,  will  that  sorter  thing  work.  When 
I  ketch  you  wonderin',  I  '11  know  you  've 
took  one  of  them  infectious  diseases  that 
you  read  about.  You  could  see  Cally-Lou, 
an'  so  could  I,  if  our  gizzards  was  in  the 
right  place.  But  I  kin  say  as  much  as 
that  nigger  did  —  I  mighty  nigh  seed  her. 
Folks  tell  me  that  you  kin  see  the  wind  ef 
you  '11  take  a  handsaw  at  the  right  time 
of  day,  an'  hold  it  so  the  breeze  kin  blow 
over  it.  I  an't  got  the  least  doubt  that  we 
could  see  a  heap  of  things  that  we  never 
do  see,  ef  we  know'd  when,  an'  whar,  an' 
how  to  look." 

The  three  men  were  silent  a  long  time 
until  Lawyer  Tidwell  remarked,  with  some 
thing  that  sounded  like  a  sigh,  "I  reckon 
we  'd  better  be  going,  Mr.  Sanders." 
They  went  away,  leaving  old  Jonas  alone 


116    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

in  the  house.  He  neither  bade  them  good 
bye,  nor  turned  his  head  when  they  went. 
But  when  he  heard  the  door  shut,  he  went 
to  the  window,  as  if  to  make  sure  they  had 
really  gone;  and  when  he  was  satisfied 
on  this  point,  he  shuffled  to  the  back  porch, 
and  called  for  Randall.  The  negro  came 
silent,  but  wondering.  For  years  he  had 
been  in  a  state  of  uneasy  expectation,  and 
he  found  it  almost  impossible  to  free  him 
self  from  it  now.  Old  Jonas  was  blunt 
and  brief. 

"Go  over  to  the  courthouse,  walk  into 
the  Ordinary's  office,  and  ask  if  Mr. 
Sanders  and  Lawyer  Tidwell  have  been 
there.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  they  [have  n't 
been  there,  and  they  are  not  going  there, 
but  old  Tuttle  will  think  they  are  coming 
and  he  '11  be  worried  about  it.  I  want  you 
to  show  yourself  to  him  just  once.  Answer 
every  question  he  asks  you.  Tell  him 
where  you  are  staying;  say  that  I  have 
employed  you;  but  pretend  you  don't  know 
him.  Then  walk  around  the  public  square, 
and  through  the  town,  make  yourself 
known  to  some  of  your  coloured  friends, 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    117 

and  come  right  back  here  and  go  to  work 
about  the  lot  and  yard  just  as  if  you  had 
been  here  a  long  time." 

Randall  made  no  reply;  he  merely  stood 
scratching  his  head,  and  fumbling  with  his 
hat  trying  hard  to  come  to  some  under 
standing,  however  dim,  of  the  motive 
and  purpose  that  lay  behind  old  Jonas's 
command ;  but,  try  as  he  would,  he  could  n't 
make  out  the  puzzle  that  seemed  to  envelope 
and  becloud  his  mind.  Still  fumbling  with 
his  hat,  and  standing  on  first  one  foot  and 
then  the  other,  he  remarked,  with  some 
hesitation,  "Well,  suh,  I'll  go  ef  it's  yo' 
will  —  but  you  know  what  St.  Paul  (er 
it  may  be  St.  Second  Timothy)  tells  us. 
He  tells  us,  one  er  both,  for  to  go  not  whether 
we  '11  be  treated  contretemptous,  not  by 
day  an'  not  by  night  —  Paul  er  St.  Second 
Timothy,  one  er  both." 

Old  Jonas  regarded  the  negro  with 
amazement;  for  the  first  time  in  his  life 
he  had  a  whiff  of  the  kind  of  education  the 
negroes  were  picking  up  here  and  there. 

That,  or  something  else  irritated  him, 
and  he  spoke  with  some  heat.  "Well, 


118    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

confound  you!  do  just  as  you  please!  Go 
or  don't  go  —  you  're  free,  I  reckon.  But 
if  you  do  go,  say  to  old  Tuttle  that  you  're 
glad  to  see  him  looking  so  well.  You  are 
a  Republican,  I  reckon  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  replied  Randall,  with  some 
degree  of  hesitation;  "ef  you  put  it  that 
way,  I  speck  I  is.  Nobody  ain't  never 
gi'  me  no  chanst  for  to  be  anything  else. 
I  jest  did  squeeze  in  the  Northron  Metho 
dist  Church;  ef  I  'd  'a'  had  on  a  long  coat, 
the  tail  would  'a'  been  ketched  in  the  crack 
of  the  door.  All  these  here  new  doin's 
an'  new  fashions  makes  me  feel  right 
ticklish,  an'  sometimes  I  ketch  myself 
laughin'  when  they  ain't  nothin'  to  laugh 
at,  an'  it  took  me  long  for  to  find  out  that 
when  you  laugh  in  the  wrong  place  it 's 
because  you  ought  to  be  cryin'  by  good 
rights.  All  this  has  been  gwine  on  now 
some  time,  an'  I  done  come  to  that  pass 
that  when  a  piece  of  paper  blows  round 
the  cornder  right  sudden,  I  mighty  nigh 
jump  out  'n  my  skin.  I  'm  tellin'  you 
the  plain  truth,  suh!  An'  now,  after  all 
this,  you  want  me  to  put  on  what  little 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    119 

cloze  I  got  an'  walk  right  into  Mr.  Tuttle's 
jaws  —  the  identual  man  that  I  've  been 
runnin'  fum  I  dunner  how  long  —  him  that 
I  come  mighty  nigh  joltin'  across  —  I 
done  forgot  what  St.  Luke  (or  maybe  it 
wuz  St.  Mark  —  they  jrun  so  close  together 
in  the  book  that  I  skacely  know  t'other 
fum  which).  Anyhow,  they 's  a  Bible 
name  for  the  thing  you  want  me  to  do;  an' 
I  tell  you  right  now,  I  dunner  whether  for 
to  do  it  or  not.  You  white  folks  don't 
keer  much  what  you  do  —  I  've  done 
took  notice  of  that ;  but  when  it  comes  down 
to  a  plain  nigger,  why,  he  's  got  to  walk 
as  thin  as  a  batter  cake;  he  's  got  to  step 
like  he  's  afeard  of  stickin'  a  needle  in  his 
foot.  I'm  tellin'  you  the  truth,  suh; 
I  been  dodgin'  an'  hidin'  so  long  that  when 
I  hear  anybody  walkin'  fast  behind  me,  the 
flesh  crawls  on  my  back  —  yes,  suh, 
natchally  crawls  —  an'  I  (have  to  hoi'  my 
breath  for  to  keep*  fum  breakin'  loose  an' 
runnin'.  I  '11  go  there,  suh,  an'  I  hope  it'll 
be  all  right;  but  I  never  is  to  forget  what 
St.  Paul  (or  it  may  be  St.  Second  Timothy) 
says  on  that  head." 


120    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

Old  Jonas  frowned  heavily,  and  further 
betrayed  his  irritation  by  a  smothered 
malediction  that  included  the  entire  negro 
race.  Randall  waited  for  no  further  out 
break;  he  melted,  as  it  were,  from  the 
doorway,  and  disappeared  as  far  as  old 
Jonas  was  concerned,  but  Adelaide,  who 
was  sitting  in  a  little  bower  she  had  made 
for  herself,  saw  him  standing  by  the  fence 
gazing  into  space.  The  child  after  awhile 
turned  her  attention  to  play,  but  Randall 
held  his  ground  for  a  long  time,  looking 
into  the  bright  sky  far  beyond  the  bermuda 
hills  for  a  proper  solution  of  the  problem 
he  had  in  his  mind.  But  it  was  a  problem 
that  the  windy  spaces  with  their  blue 
perspective  could  not  solve,  and  so,  with  a 
sigh,  he  betook  himself  to  the  courthouse, 
where  the  man  whose  life  he  had  nearly 
taken  was  now  holding  forth  as  an  officer 
of  the  law.  The  slave-driver  had  become 
a  belated  Unionist,  then  a  Republican,  and 
was  now  a  Radical  of  the  stripe  and  temper 
of  poor  Thaddeus  Stevens,  who  was  at 
that  time  the  centre  and  motor  of  Radical 
politics. 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    121 

Now,  Mr.  Tuttle  was  by  no  means 
asleep;  he  had  watched  and  waited  for  the 
return  of  Randall.  He  carried  in  his 
pocket  book  a  warrant,  duly  made  out  and 
officially  signed,  for  the  arrest  of  the  negro. 
The  charge  was  assault  with  intent  to  mur 
der.  He  saw  Randall  long  before  Randall 
saw  him,  called  the  deputy  sheriff,  who  had 
a  room  across  the  corridor,  apprised  him 
of  the  fact  that  a  criminal  was  to  be  arrested, 
pulled  from  his  pocket-book  the  wrong 
document,  and  the  moment  the  negro 
entered  the  courthouse  he  found  himself 
in  custody  of  the  dread  officer  of  the  law. 
To  say  that  he  was  frightened  would  be 
putting  it  rather  mildy;  he  was  paralysed 
with  sickening  fear,  which  was  only  over 
come  by  desperate  rage  against  the  white 
people,  all  and  singular,  who  had  caused 
him  to  walk  into  such  a  trap. 

The  park  in  which  the  courthouse  stands 
was  separated  from  the  rest  of  the  public 
square  by  a  small,  neat  fence,  over  which, 
at  the  entrances,  steps  led,  so  that  instead 
of  opening  a  gate,  you  simply  walked  up 
the  steps,  over  the  fence,  and  down  on  the 


122    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

other  side.  On  top  of  the  most  frequented 
of  these  stiles  or  steps  Mr.  Sanders  and 
Lawyer  Tidwell  were  sitting.  Lawyer  Tid- 
well  was  on  his  way  to  the  courthouse  for 
the  purpose  of  examining  some  legal  docu 
ments  relating  to  a  case  he  had  on  the 
docket,  and  Mr.  Sanders  had  accompanied 
him  as  far  as  the  enclosure.  Their  con 
versation  grew  so  interesting  that  they 
finally  seated  themselves  on  the  topmost 
step  of  the  stile.  They  may  have  been 
talking  of  something  serious,  or  they  may 
have  been  relating  anecdotes;  but  what 
ever  the  character  of  their  conference,  it 
was  brought  to  a  sudden  conclusion  by 
the  appearance  of  the  deputy  sheriff  with 
his  humble  and  unresisting  prisoner.  The 
deputy  had  a  fine  and  high  opinion  of  the 
dignity  of  his  position;  he  magnified  his 
office.  "Make  way,  gentlemen!"  he  cried, 
and  stood  waiting  for  Mr.  Sanders  and 
the  lawyer  to  move  respectfully  aside. 

Both  men  looked  up,  but  it  was  left  to 
Mr.  Sanders  to  express  the  surprise  of 
each.  "What  in  the  confounded  nation 
does  this  mean?"  he  exclaimed,  rising 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    123 

to  a  standing  position,  and  facing  the 
officer  and  prisoner. 

The  prisoner  was  ahead  of  the  deputy 
with  a  reply:  "It  means  lots  mo'  to  me 
than  what  it  do  to  anybody  else,  suh," 
Randall  declared,  drawing  in  a  deep 
breath,  as  if,  in  that  way,  he  could  con 
trol  his  emotion.  ;'Whar  I  come  frum 
they  warned  me  ag'in'  all  white  folks, 
bofe  Republican  an'  Dimmycrat.  They 
say,  'You  go  an'  preach  the  straight 
gospel,  an'  let  'em  alone  when  they  talk 
anything  else  but  the  Saviour  an'  Him 
crucified;  they  tol'  me  that,  an'  now  you 
see  me!  But  for  that  little  white  child 
down  yander,  I  would  n't  be  here  now. 
But  here  I  is,  an'  here  I  '11  stay,  an'  I  '11 
be  nuther  the  fust  nor  the  last  that  was 
flung  to  the  lions.  Look  at  Daniel,  an' 
see  what  he  done!  Yes,  suh!  I'm  right 
here!" 

"Well,  now,  you  jest  hold  up  your  head 
an'  put  your  hat  on  sideways  ef  you  want 
to,"  remarked  Mr.  Sanders.  "Gus!"  he 
said,  turning  to  the  lawyer,  with  something 
like  a  frown  on  his  bland  countenance, 


124    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

"here's  a  whole  bunch  of  business  that's 
fell  right  in  our  laps.  An'  it 's  all  in  your 
line,  too;  but  ef  you  can't  do  nothin',  why, 
then,  I  '11  take  up  the  loose  ends  an'  see 
what  I  kin  do  wi'  'em.  I  '11  tell  you  right 
now,"  he  went  on,  turning  to  the  deputy 
sheriff,  "when  you  take  this  nigger  to  jail, 
you  '11  take  me,  too  —  you  or  the  man  that 's 
waitin  for  your  job.  Make  no  mistake 
about  that!" 

A  number  of  negroes  who  had  been  talk 
ing  together  near  the  courthouse  drew 
nearer  when  they  saw  one  of  their  colour 
held  prisoner.  One  of  them  was  the  negro 
member  of  the  Legislature,  and  he  was 
curious  to  know  what  the  trouble  was  — 
curious  and  sympathetic,  too,  for  he  some 
how  felt  that  as  the  representative  of  the 
race  in  the  county,  he  was  responsible  for 
the  welfare  of  each  individual.  When 
Lawyer  Tidwell  thought  that  the  negroes 
were  near  enough  to  hear  everything  that 
was  said,  he  rose  from  his  seat  on  the  stile, 
and  impressively  shook  his  leonine  mtoe. 
"What  do  you  propose  to  do  with  this 
boy?"  he  inquired. 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    123 

"I  Jm  taking  him  to  jail,"  the  deputy 
replied,  with  a  little  relapse  from  dignity 
due  to  the  unwonted  aspect  of  Mr.  Tidwell 
and  Mr.  Sanders.  The  lawyer  demanded 
by  what  authority  he  had  arrested  the 
negro,  and  asked  to  see  the  warrant.  By 
this  time  a  considerable  crowd  of  coloured 
people  had  gathered  around,  and  when 
the  warrant  was  produced,  Mr.  Tidwell 
created  a  considerable  sensation  by  the 
tone  of  indignation  he  assumed  and  by 
the  dramatic  gestures  with  which  he 
denounced  such  proceedings. 

"Do  you  call  this  a  warrant?"  he  cried, 
striking  the  document  with  the  back  of  his 
hand.  Then  with  threatening  forefinger, 
held  under  the  deputy's  nose,  he  went  on: 
"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me,  sir,  that  you 
arrest  people,  and  run  them  into  jail 
with  such  scraps  of  paper  as  this  is  ? 
Deprive  them  of  their  rights  under  the 
constitution  without  giving  them  a  chance 
to  be  heard  at  a  preliminary  trial?"  Law 
yer  Tidwell's  voice  grew  higher,  and  his 
indignation  seemed  to  rise  higher,  as  he 
contemplated  the  rampant  injustice  of  the 


126    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

period,  of  which  this  proceeding  was  a 
very  small  part.  "Mark  my  words!"  he 
exclaimed;  "you  '11  go  to  jail  before  this 
boy  does!  You  know  just  as  well  as  I 
do  that  this  is  no  warrant.  You  know  it 
is  n't  properly  made  out,  nor  even  properly 
signed.  I  tell  you  again,  the  man  that 
issued  it  will  be  impeached,  and  the  man 
that  served  it  will  occupy  the  same  cell. 
You  '11  know  a  thing  or  two  worth  remem 
bering  when  I  get  through  with  you!" 
The  lawyer's  whole  attitude  was  menacing, 
and  it  made  precisely  the  impression  he  had 
intended  it  should.  He  turned  to  Randall. 
"What  party  do  you  vote  with?" 

:<Wid  the  party  of  Aberham  Lincoln, 
suh;  an'  if  you  want  to  know  why,  turn 
to  St.  Paul  (or  it  may  be  St.  Second 
Timothy  —  one  or  the  other)  an'  you  '11 
see  where  the  brotherin  is  begged  an' 
commanded  for  to  stand  by  one  another 
in  all  manner  of  trial  an'  tribulation.  In 
them  days,  suh,  they  grit  one  another  wi' 
a  holy  kiss ;  but  in  these  times  —  la !  holy 
kissin'  is  done  played  out  like  a  boss  that 
went  through  the  war!" 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    127 

At  this  point  the  negro  legislator,  in  order 
to  keep  up  his  reputation  for  representing 
his  race,  spoke  up.  "Frien',  what  has 
you  been  doin',  an'  what  has  you  been 
tuck  up  fer  ?  It  look  like  ter  me  that  you 
has  got  a  case  fer  ter  fetch  up  in  the  gener'l 
insembly,  an'  ef  you  is,  I  want  ter  have 
the  handlin'  un  it." 

It  was  Mr.  Tidwell  who  replied.  "Don't 
you  remember  that  old  Tuttle  was  an 
overseer  before  the  war  ?  He  had  no 
niggers  of  his  own,  and  he  took  his  spite 
out  on  other  people's  niggers.  One  day, 
when  he  was  kicking  and  cuffing  this  boy 
here,  he  hit  him  one  lick  too  many.  Ran 
dall  turned  on  him,  and  came  pretty  near 
knocking  him  into  the  middle  of  next  week. 
You-all  have  put  old  Tuttle  in  a  place 
where  he  has  a  little  power,  and  now, 
after  all  these  years,  he  wants  to  [slap 
Randall  in  jail,  when  he  knows  just  as 
well  as  you  know  that  he  hit  the  boy  a 
hundred  times  as  many  licks  as  the  boy 
hit  him.  And  he  sha'n't  put  him  in  jail! 
One  of  you  boys  run  to  Mr.  Whipple's 
and  tell  him  that  Mr.  Sanders  wants  to 


128    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

see  him  at  the  courthouse  at  once.  Tell 
him  that  Randall  is  in  trouble." 

Not  only  one  negro,  but  half  a  dozen 
negroes,  went  on  a  run  to  carry  the  message 
to  old  Jonas. 

"Ten  to  one  he  doesn't  come," 
remarked  Mr.  Tidwell  to  his  companion 
in  an  undertone. 

Mr.  Sanders  himself  had  a  very  small 
supply  of  undertones,  and  so  he  spoke 
right  out  when  he  replied  to  the  lawyer 
—  "Ef  he  don't  come  I'll  go  arter  him, 
an'  ef  I  have  to  do  that,  I  '11  paint  him  red 
before  he  gits  here!  I  promise  you  you 
won't  know  him!" 

But  old  Jonas  came  fast  enough;  more 
over,  he  came  smiling,  and  this,  together 
with  the  fact  that  he  forgot  to  remove  his 
skull-cap  when  he  put  on  his  hat  gave 
him  something  of  a  new  aspect  in  the  eyes 
even  of  those  who  had  known  him  long. 
The  rapidity  with  which  he  walked  was 
not  so  remarkable,  considering  the  fact 
that  Adelaide  was  running  a  little  ahead 
of  him.  The  child  dropped  his  hand 
when  she  saw  Mr.  Sanders  and  the  rest, 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    129 

and  ran  to  them  as  hard  as  she  could. 
"Bishop!"  she  cried  to  Mr.  Sanders,  "the 
Boogerman  is  to  come  right  home  this 
minute.  I  've  found  a  new  gun,  and  I 
want  to  shoot  him!  Boogerman,  please 
come  on!"  All  that  Randall  could  say 
was,  "Well,  suh!"  and  then  he  passed 
his  hand  across  his  eyes,  and  gazed  off 
into  the  far-distance,  seeing  whatsoever 
visions  the  Almighty  vouchsafes  to  the 
meek  and  lowly,  who  are  troubled  in  heart 
and  mind.  He  must  have  seen  something, 
and  that  something  must  have  been  suffi 
cient,  for  his  face  brightened,  and  when  he 
turned  his  head,  and  saw  that  all  were 
looking  at  him  with  curiosity,  he  laughed 
pleasantly,  and,  stooping  down,  lifted 
Adelaide  in  his  arms,  and  held  her  there, 
as  though  she  would  afford  him  the  pro 
tection  which  he  thought  he  needed. 

"  Which  a- way  does  you-all  want  me  for 
to  go?"  he  inquired.  "Show  me,  an' 
I  '11  go  right  straight  to  the  place.  In 
Galatians,  Paul  bragged  that  he  outfaced 
Peter,  an'  ef  he  done  that,  I  speck  I  kin 
face  what's  a  comin'  to  me." 


130    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

"I'll  put  your  hat  on  the  side  of  your 
head,  Boogerman,  so  you  can  look  as  bold 
as  a  goose,"  said  Adelaide. 

"Yes,  ma'am,  I  kin  do  that  [an'  not 
half  try;  an'  ef  I  can't  look  like  a  goose, 
I  bet  you  I  can  look  as  sheepish  as  the  next 
one."  He  was  not  even  apprehensive  and 
those  who  were  observing  him'  closely 
wondered  at  the  sudden  change  that  had 
come  over  him.  "Jail,"  he  went  on,  in 
the  tone  of  an  exhorter  —  "jail  was  good 
'nough  for  the  'postles,  an'  why  not  for 
me  ?  They  ain't  got  no  law  long  'nough, 
ner  no  jail  strong  'nough  for  to  prevent 
pra'r." 

"Oh,  shucks,  Boogerman!"  exclaimed 
Adelaide;  "let's  go  to  jail.  I  want  to 
see  what  kind  of  a  place  it  is  on  the  inside, 
because  I  may  have  to  send  [Cally-Lou 
there  if  she  does  n't  behaviour  better  than 
she  has  been  doing."  j 

"Well,  ef  you  're  a-gwine  to  send  Cally- 
Lou  to  that  hotel,"  Mr.  Sanders  remarked, 
"jest  tell  'em  for  to  gi'  me  a  big  room  wi' 
a  long  bed  in  it."  Then  they  all  went  in 
the  courthouse,  and  sought  out  the  judge 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    131 

of  the  Superior  Court  circuit,  who  had  his 
office  in  the  building.  After  Lawyer  Tid- 
well's  explanation,  he  very  readily  con 
sented  to  hold  the  commitment  trial  then 
and  there.  Mr.  Tidwell  briefly  called  atten 
tion  to  the  nature  of  the  warrant  that  had 
been  served,  and  announced  his  intention 
of  bringing  the  impeachment  proceedings 
against  Mr.  Tuttle,  who  was  judge  of  the 
Court  of  Ordinary.  The  Superior  Court 
judge  said  he  had  no  doubt  that  such 
proceedings  would  hold,  when  brought  at 
the  proper  time,  and  in  the  proper  way, 
but  they  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  case 
before  him.  Whatever  the  nature  of  the 
warrant,  the  accused  was  now  in  charge 
of  an  officer  of  the  law,  and  it  would  sim 
plify  matters  to  have  the  preliminary  trial 
take  place  at  once.  Randall  gave  his 
version  of  the  affair,  and  when  Mr.  Tuttle 
was  called  to  testify,  it  was  found  that  the 
testimony  he  gave  was  not  materially  dif 
ferent  from  that  which  the  negro  had  given, 
much  of  it  being  brought  out  by  the  close 
questioning  of  Mr.  Tidwell.  The  result 
was  that  Randall  was  placed  under  bond 


132    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

for  his  appearance  at  the  next  term  of  the 
superior  court  to  be  held  in  that  county. 
Much  to  the  surprise  of  all,  old  Jonas 
Whipple,  instead  of  making  a  bond  for 
Randall,  gave  his  check  on  the  local  bank, 
with  the  understanding  that  it  was  to  be 
cashed  in  favour  of  the  court.  The  judge 
said  that  a  bond  of  that  kind  was  something 
unusual,  but  he  accepted  it. 

Randall  looked  hard  at  old  Jonas,  and 
his  lip  trembled  as  if  he  were  about  to  say 
something,  but,  instead,  his  glance  turned 
to  the  floor,  and  he  stood  fumbling  his  hat. 
Mr.  Sanders,  observing  the  negro's  embar 
rassment,  told  a  funny  story,  and  when  the 
laughter  to  which  it  gave  rise  had  subsided 
the  judge  asked  the  Sage  of  Shady  Dale 
if  he  wanted  the  anecdote  to  be  made  a 
part  of  the  record  in  the  case.  The  counte 
nance  of  Mr.  Sanders  took  on  a  peculiarly 
solemn  expression. 

"Well,  judge,"  he  replied,  "it 'd  be  a 
mighty  good  way  for  to  improve  it  some." 

All  these  things  were  beyond  Adelaide. 
She  climbed  on  a  chair,  and  from  the 
chair  to  a  table,  and  stood  poised  at  that 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN     133 

dizzy  height  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  Mr. 
Sanders.  "Come  on,  Bishop,"  she  com 
manded,  "and  let 's  go  home."  He  backed 
up  to  the  table  like  a  trained  horse  in  the 
modern  pony  shows.  When  he  came  close 
enough  Adelaide  leaped  on  his  back. 
Here  she  perched  herself,  while  Mr.  San 
ders  went  from  the  courthouse  with  a 
sweeping  stride,  which,  when  he  was  out 
of  doors,  changed,  first  into  a  trot,  and 
then  into  a  pretended  canter. 


PART  V 

When  the  gales  of  peace  shall  scatter 
War's  wild,  red  rubbish  like  chaff, 

When  the  mills  shall  renew  their  clatter 
Then  all  the  people  will  laugh. 

—  Tunison's  Industrial  Hymns. 

RANDALL  celebrated  his  release  by 
retiring  to  Lucindy's  house,  where 
he  shut  himself  in  and  remained  for  more 
than  an  hour.  He  filled  the  little  room  with 
thanksgiving  in  the  shape  of  song  and 
prayer,  all  of  which  could  be  heard  for  a 
considerable  distance.  A  great  burden  had 
been  lifted  from  his  simple  mind,  and  he 
celebrated  the  fact  in  a  simple  and  natural 
way.  Lucindy  understood  his  feelings,  for 
she  shared  them.  While  Randall  was  pray 
ing  and  singing  in  her  house,  she  was  in 
the  kitchen  with  Adelaide.  Even  while 
the  tears  of  gratitude  and  thankfulness 
were  running  down  her  cheeks,  and  threat 
ening  to  fall  in  the  things  she  was  cooking 
(as  the  child  saw),  she  made  light  of  the 

134 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    135 

whole  matter.  "I  dunner  what  he  mean 
by  gwine  'way  off  dat-a-way,  an'  holdin'  a 
pray'r-meetin'  by  hisself.  He  '11  have  de 
whole  town  a-stan'in'  'roun'  in  de  yard  ef 
he  keep  on  doin'  like  dat." 

:'Well,  Mammy  Lucindy,  you  are  crying 
yourself." 

"My  eyes  weak,  honey,  an'  dey  feels 
like  I  done  stuck  a  splinter  in  bofe  un  um. 
You  des  wait.  When  you  git  ol'  ez  what 
I  is,  I  lay  yo'  eyes  will  run  water,  too." 

The  idea  of  Adelaide  growing  old! 
Nobody  would  have  thought  of  such  a 
thing  but  Lucindy,  and  the  thought  only 
came  to  her  as  a  means  of  hiding  her  own 
feelings.  But  it  is  a  fact  that  the  child  was 
about  to  grow  older.  For  shortly  after 
Randall's  trouble,  all  of  us  took  the  road 
for  Eighteen-Hundred-and-Eighty-Five.  We 
thought  it  was  a  long  road,  too,  and  yet, 
somehow,  it  was  neither  long  nor  rough. 
But  it  was  a  very  peculiar  thoroughfare. 
For  though  all  of  us  tried  to  walk  side  by 
side,  it  seemed  that  some  of  us  were  toiling 
up-hill,  while  others  were  walking  [down 
hill.  It  was  so  peculiar  that  on  several 


136    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

occasions,  I  was  on  the  point  of  asking 
Adelaide  what  she  thought  of  a  road  that 
could  be  up-hill  and  down-hill  in  the  same 
place,  and  at  the  same  time;  but  the  child 
had  so  many  quaint  and  beautiful  thoughts 
of  her  own  that  I  hesitated  to  disturb  her 
mind. 

Moreover,  she  was  growing  so  fast,  and 
getting  along  so  well,  that  I  had  no  real 
desire  to  put  new  ideas  in  her  head.  Mr. 
Sanders  declared  that  she  was  running  up 
like  a  weed.  This  attracted  the  attention 
of  old  Jonas,  who  fixed  his  small  glittering 
eyes  on  the  old  humourist. 

"Like  a  weed,  Sanders?"  Mr.  Whipple 
inquired. 

"Well,"  replied  Mr.  Sanders,  "call  the 
weed  a  sunflower,  ef  it  suits  you;  but  I 
dunner  what 's  the  matter  with  a  weed — the 
Lord  made  it." 

Old  Jonas,  looking  off  into  space,  nodded 
his  head,  with  "Yes,  I  reckon  maybe 
He  did." 

As  we  went  along  this  road  I  have  been 
telling  you  of,  I  thought  that  perhaps 
old  Jonas  would  stop  to  rest  in  a  fence 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    137 

corner,  but  the  further  we  went,  wre 
found  that  he  wras  as  lively  as  any  of  the 
rest,  though  perhaps  not  so  nimble.  As 
for  Adelaide,  she  simply  grew;  there  was 
no  other  change  in  her.  She  carried  her 
child  nature  along  with  her,  and  she 
carried  Cally-Lou.  Not  much  was  said 
of  Cally-Lou,  but  all  of  us  felt  that  she 
was  in  hiding  in  that  wide,  clear  space  that 
is  just  an  inch  or  so  beyond  the  short  reach 
of  our  vision;  and,  somehow,  we  were 
all  glad  to  have  the  company  of  the  little 
dream-child  who  was  "not  quite  white." 
I  think  she  kept  Adelaide  from  taking  on 
the  airs  and  poses  of  growing  girls.  And 
this  was  just  as  well.  Adelaide  took  in 
knowledge,  as  though  she  had  learned  it 
somewhere  before.  When  she  began  to 
study  at  school  (as  we  went  along)  she 
declared  that  the  books  caused  her  to 
remember  things  that  she  had  forgotten. 
Mr.  Sanders  said  that  there  never  was  such 
a  scholar,  and  Mr.  Tidwell  agreed  with 
him.  Old  Jonas  said  nothing;  his  face 
simply  wore  a  satisfied  frown. 

None  of  us  forgot  Randall,  or  could  afford 


138    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

to  forget  him,  for  we  were  journeying  along 
together.  His  evolution  was  out  of  the 
usual  order.  Adelaide  merely  fulfilled  the 
promises  of  her  childhood,  and  the  expecta 
tions  of  those  wrho  were  in  love  with  her; 
whereas,  Randall  outran  prophecy  itself. 
The  Boogerman  developed  into  a  full- 
fledged  minister  of  the  Methodist  Church, 
and,  in  the  course  of  that  development, 
became  a  complete  engine  of  modern 
industry.  He  went  so  far  and  so  fast 
that  he  had  an  abundance  of  time  to 
devote  to  the  religious  enthusiasm  that  kept 
him  inwardly  inflamed;  and  such  was  the 
power  of  his  rude  eloquence  that  he  attracted 
the  admiration  of  whites  as  well  as  blacks. 
He  was  ignorant,  but  he  had  a  gift  that 
education  has  never  been  able  to  produce 
in  a  human  being  —  he  had  the  gift  of 
eloquence.  When  he  was  in  the  pulpit 
his  rough  words,  his  simple  gestures,  the 
play  of  his  features,  the  poise  of  his  body, 
his  whole  attitude,  were  as  far  beyond  the 
compass  of  education  as  it  is  possible  for 
the  mind  to  conceive.  This  gift,  or  power, 
became  so  well  known  that  he  had  a  real 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    139 

taste  of  what  is  called  reputation  in  this 
world.  He  was  a  pattern,  a  model,  for 
the  men  of  his  race,  and,  indeed,  for  the 
men  of  any  race,  for  there  never  was  a 
moment  when  he  was  idle  after  he  dis 
covered  that  an  honest  and  industrious  man 
can  make  and  save  money.  All  that  he 
made,  he  gave  to  old  Jonas  Whipple  [to 
keep  for  him.  The  more  Randall  worked 
the  more  he  learned  how  to  work,  so  that 
in  the  course  of  a  year  or  two,  there  was 
nothing  in  the  way  of  work  that  he  could  n't 
do  well.  His  credit  at  the  little  bank  was 
as  good  as  that  of  most  white  men,  and  his 
simple  word  was  as  good  as  a  bond. 

The  men  of  his  race  watched  him  with 
a  curious  kind  of  awe.  When  one  of  them 
asked  him  how  he  managed  to  accomplish 
the  results  that  were  plain  to  every  one, 
his  reply  was:  "Good  gracious,  man!  I 
jest  goes  ahead  and  does  it,  that 's  how." 
He  had  a  great  knack  of  meeting  oppor 
tunity  before  she  knocked  at  his  door  — 
of  meeting  her  and  hitching  her  to  his 
shack  of  a  buggy,  where  she  served  the 
purpose  of  a  family  horse.  He  had  the 


140    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

confidence  and  sympathy  of  all  the  white 
people  who  knew  him.  He  began  to  buy 
tracts  of  land,  and  one  of  his  purchases 
included  High  Falls,  where  the  children 
and  grown  people  had  their  picnic  grounds. 
Many  thought  this  a  wild  investment, 
especially  old  Jonas,  who  rated  him  soundly 
for  throwing  away  his  hard-earned  money; 
but  Mr.  Sanders,  who,  with  all  his  humour 
and  nonsense,  was  by  all  odds  the  shrewdest 
business  man  in  all  that  region,  declared 
that  the  time  would  come  when  the  money 
that  Randall  had  paid  for  it  would  be 
smothered  by  the  money  he  could  sell  it 
for.  Randall  explained  to  old  Jonas  the 
reason  why  he  had  bought  this  remarkable 
water-power;  it  was  because  the  water  came 
so  free  and  fell  so  far. 

All  this,  by  the  way,  as  we  were  jour 
neying  along.  We  began  to  try  to  for 
get  Eighteen-Hundred-and-Sixty-Eight;  we 
knew  right  were  it  was,  but,  as  we  got 
farther  and  farther  away  from  it,  it  seemed 
to  lose  some  of  its  importance;  and,  some 
times,  when  we  could  n't  help  but  remem 
ber  it,  it  came  back  to  us  as  though  it  was 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    141 

the  memory  of  a  bad  dream.  People 
began  to  look  up  and  stir  about,  Progress, 
hand-in-hand  with  Better  Conditions, 
crawled  out  of  the  woods,  where  they  had 
been  hiding,  and  began  to  pay  visits  to 
their  old  friends.  Mr.  Sanders  said  it 
gave  him  a  kind  of  Christmas  feeling 
to  see  the  hard  times  vanishing.  Old 
Jonas  felt  better,  too.  At  any  rate,  he 
seemed  to  take  more  interest  in  Adelaide, 
who,  by  this  time,  had  developed  into  a 
wonderfully  charming  young  wroman  — 
just  how  charming,  I  leave  you  to  imagine; 
for  she  was  a  young  woman  and  still  a  child. 
It  is  given  to  few  people  in  this  world  to 
have  this  combination  and  to  be  able  to 
manage  it  as  it  should  be  managed.  I 
don't  know  whether  to  call  it  the  art  of 
living,  or  the  instinct  that  makes  Every 
body  feel  as  though  he  were  Somebody. 
I  never  could  understand  the  secret  of  it, 
and,  indeed,  I  never  tried,  until  one  day 
a  scientist  came  along  peddling  his  ideas 
and  theories.  He  declared  that  there  was 
an  explanation  somewhere  in  one  of  his 
books,  but  so  far,  I  have  been  unable 


142    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

to  find  it.  There  was  nothing  in  his  dull 
books  about  Adelaide  and  her  individuality. 
It  should  be  borne  in  mind  that  Adelaide 
had,  in  the  course  of  seventeen  years, 
developed  into  Something  that  was  quite 
beyond  art  and  education.  Her  inimitable 
personality,  which  was  hers  from  the  first, 
and  quite  beyond  the  contingencies  of 
chance  or  change,  continued  to  be  inimitable. 
She  had  received  all  the  advantages  that 
money  could  buy;  but  this  fact  only 
emphasised  her  native  charm.  She  was 
a  child  as  well  as  a  young  woman,  with  the 
sweet  unconsciousness  of  the  one  and  the 
dazzling  loveliness  of  the  other. 

Mean  as  he  was  said  to  be,  it  was  a  well- 
known  fact  that  old  Jonas's  money  would 
go  as  far  as  that  of  any  man;  and  when  it 
came  to  a  question  of  Adelaide,  it  was  as 
free  as  the  money  of  some  of  our  modern  mil 
lionaires  when  they  desire  to  advertise  their 
benevolence.  He  was  determined,  he  said, 
that  his  niece  should  have  all  the  polish 
the  schools  could  furnish.  He  called  it 
polish  for  the  reason  that  he  had  many 
a  hot  argument  with  Mr.  Sanders  and 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    143 

Lawyer  Tidwell  with  respect  to  the  benefits 
of  education  —  the  education  furnished  by 
our  modern  system  of  public  schools.  He 
did  n't  believe  in  it;  there  was  always  too 
much  for  some  people,  and  not  enough  for 
others;  there  was  no  discrimination  in  the 
scheme.  Moreover,  it  put  false  ideas  in 
some  people's  heads,  and  made  them  lazy 
and  vicious.  But  he  had  never  said  a  word 
in  opposition  to  polish,  and  when  he  sent 
Adelaide  to  one  of  the  most  expensive 
schools,  it  was  not  to  educate  her,  he  said, 
but  to  give  her  the  "polish"  that  would 
elevate  her  above  ordinary  people. 

Adelaide  received  the  polish,  but  refused 
to  be  elevated,  and  when  she  returned 
home,  unchanged  and  unspoiled,  old  Jonas 
Whipple  said  to  himself  that  his  money 
had  been  spent  in  vain.  He  wanted  to  see 
her  put  on  airs  and  hold  herself  above 
people,  but  this  she  never  did;  and  she 
would  have  laughed  heartily  at  old  Jonas's 
thoughts  if  she  had  known  what  they  were. 
Mr.  Whipple  seemed  to  have  an  idea  that 
culture  and  refinement  are  things  that 
you  can  put  your  fingers  on  and  feel  of, 


144    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

and  he  was  sure  that  dignity  and  personal 
pride  are  their  accompaniments.  Yet  he 
gave  no  outward  sign  of  his  disappointment 
if  he  really  had  any,  and  he  swallowed  such 
regrets  as  possessed  him  with  a  straight 
face;  for  he  saw,  with  a  secret  pride  and 
pleasure  that  no  one  suspected,  that  Ade 
laide  was  the  most  charming  young  girl 
in  all  that  neighbourhood.  It  filled  him 
with  pride  for  w^hich  he  could  not  account 
when  he  observed  that  she  could  hold  her 
own  in  any  company,  and  that,  wherever 
she  went,  she  was  the  centre  of  admiration 
and  interest. 

Now,  it  was  not  long  before  the  pro 
moters  of  a  railway  line  from  Atlanta  to 
Malvern  came  knocking  at  the  doors  of 
Shady  Dale.  Mr.  Sanders  and  a  number 
of  others  were  inclined  to  be  more  than 
hospitable  to  the  enterprise,  but  old  Jonas 
Whipple  was  opposed  to  it  tooth-and-nail. 
His  arguments  in  opposition  to  the  enter 
prise  will  be  thought  amusing  and  ridi 
culous  in  this  day  and  time,  but  it  is 
notorious,  the  world  over,  that  any  man 
with  money  can  have  a  substantial  follow- 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN     145 

ing  without  resorting  to  bribery,  and  there 
were  many  in  Shady  Dale,  who,  basing  their 
admiration  on  the  fact  that  he  had  been 
very  successful  as  a  money-maker,  in  the 
face  of  the  most  adverse  conditions,  wrere 
ready  to  endorse  anything  that  old  Jonas 
said;  he  was  an  oracle  because  he  knew 
how  to  make  money,  though  it  is  well  known 
that  the  making  of  money  does  not  depend 
on  a  very  high  order  of  intelligence.  Old 
Jonas's  objections  to  a  railway  were  not 
amenable  to  reason  or  argument;  it  was 
sufficient  that  they  were  satisfactory  to 
him.  He  had  them  all  catalogued  and 
numbered.  There  were  six  of  them,  and 
they  ran  about  as  follows: 

1.  A  railroad  would  add  to  the  racket 
and  riot  of  the  neighbourhood,  when,  even 
as  things  were,  it  was  a  difficult  matter  for 
decent  people  to  sleep  in  peace.  2  (This 
objection  was  impressive  on  account  of  its 
originality;  no  one  had  ever  thought  of  it). 
The  passing  of  railway  trains  would  pro 
duce  concussion,  and  this  concussion, 
repeated  at  regular  intervals,  would  cause 
the  blossoms  of  the  fruit  trees  to  drop 


146    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

untimely  off,  and  would  no  doubt  have  a 
disastrous  effect  on  garden  vegetables. 
3.  The  railroad  would  not  stop  in  Shady 
Dale,  but  would  go  on  to  Atlanta,  thus 
making  the  little  town  a  way-station,  and 
drain  the  whole  county  of  its  labour  at  a 
time  when  everybody  was  trying  to  adjust 
himself  to  the  new  conditions.  4.  Instead 
of  patronising  home  industries  and  enter 
prises,  people  would  scramble  for  seats 
on  the  cars,  and  go  gadding  about,  spending 
anywhere  but  at  home  the  little  money  they 
had.  5.  Every  business  and  all  forms  of 
industry  in  the  whole  section  adjacent  to 
the  line  would  be  at  the  mercy  of  the  road 
and  its  managers;  and,  6,  What  did  people 
want  with  railroads,  when  a  majority  of 
the  loudest  talkers  had  earned  no  more  than 
three  dollars  apiece  since  the  war  ? 

Mr.  Sanders  tried  hard  to  destroy  these 
objections  by  means  of  timely  and  appro 
priate  jokes.  But  jokes  had  no  effect  on 
Mr.  Whipple.  Moreover,  there  was  one 
fact  that  no  jokes  could  change:  a  great 
body  of  land  belonging  to  old  Jonas  lay 
right  across  the  face  of  the  railway  survey, 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    147 

and  there  was  no  way  to  avoid  it  except 
by  making  a  detour  so  wide  that  Shady 
Dale  would  be  left  far  to  one  side.  You 
would  think,  of  course,  that  it  was  an  easy 
matter  to  condemn  a  right  of  way  through 
old  Jonas's  land,  and  so  it  would  have 
been  but  for  one  fact  that  could  not  be 
ignored.  There  was  a  bitter  controversy 
going  on  between  the  people  and  the  roads, 
and  the  managers  were  trying  to  be  as 
polite  as  they  could  be  under  the  circum 
stances.  The  controversy  referred  to 
finally  resulted  in  the  passage  of  the  railway 
laws  that  are  now  on  the  statute  books 
of  the  state.  The  promoters  of  the  line 
to  Shady  Dale  had  no  desire  to  arouse  the 
serious  opposition  of  Mr.  Whipple  and 
his  friends;  they  had  no  idea  of  making  a 
serious  contest  in  view  of  the  state  of 
public  opinion,  and  they  had  made  up 
their  minds  that  if  they  failed  to  secure  the 
right  of  way  through  old  Jonas's  lands  by 
fair  words,  they  would  leave  Shady  Dale 
out  of  their  plans  altogether.  They  had 
already  surveyed  another  line  that  would 
run  six  or  seven  miles  north  of  the  town, 


148    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

and  work  on  this  would  have  begun 
promptly  but  for  the  representations  of 
Mr.  Sanders  and  other  substantial  citizens, 
who  declared  that  only  a  short  delay  would 
be  necessary  to  bring  old  Jonas  to  terms. 
But  that  result,  by  the  interposition  of 
Providence,  as  it  were,  was  left  for  others 
to  accomplish. 

Of  the  contest  going  on  between  the  old- 
fashioned,  unprogressive  faction,  headed 
by  her  uncle,  and  the  spirited  element  of 
which  Mr.  Sanders  was  the  leader,  Adelaide 
had  no  particular  knowledge.  She  knew 
in  a  general  way  that  some  question  in 
regard  to  the  new  railroad  was  in  dispute. 
She  had  heard  the  matter  discussed,  and 
she  had  laughed  at  some  of  the  comments 
of  Mr.  Sanders  on  the  obstinacy  of  her 
uncle,  but  the  whole  matter  was  outside 
the  circle  of  her  serious  thoughts  and 
interests  until,  at  last,  it  was  brought  home 
to  her  in  a  way  that  the  novel  writers  would 
call  romantic,  though  for  some  time  it 
was  decidedly  embarrassing. 

Blushing  and  laughing,  she  told  Mr. 
Sanders  about  it  afterward.  That  genial 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    149 

citizen  regarded  it  as  a  good  joke,  and,  as 
such,  he  made  the  most  of  it.  She  was 
walking  about  in  the  garden  one  day, 
thinking  of  childish  things,  and  remember 
ing  what  fine  times  she  and  Mr.  Sanders 
had  had  when  she  was  a  tiny  bit  of  a  girl. 
She  was  very  old  now  —  quite  seventeen 
—  but  her  childhood  was  still  fresh  in  her 
remembrance,  and  she  was  quite  a  child 
in  her  freshness  and  innocence.  The  corn- 
patch  was  in  a  new  place  now,  but  to  her 
it  was  still  the  Whish-Whish  Woods.  In 
the  days  when  she  brought  down  the 
Boogerman  with  her  cornstalk  gun,  the 
corn  was  growing  in  the  garden  next  to  a 
side  street  on  which  there  was  very  little 
passing  to  and  fro;  but  now  the  corn-patch 
was  next  to  a  thoroughfare  that  was  much 
frequented.  Remembering  how  delighted 
she  had  been  when  Randall,  the  Booger 
man,  responded  so  completely  to  her  pre 
tence  of  shooting  him  with  her  cornstalk 
gun,  she  was  seized  by  a  whim  that  gave 
her  an  almost  uncontrollable  desire  to 
repeat  the  performance. 

By  a  gesture  which,  whether  magical  or 


150    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

not,  admirably  served  its  purpose,  Adelaide 
became  a  child  again.  Her  beautiful  hair, 
unloosed,  fell  below  her  waist,  and  her 
face  had  the  same  little  pucker  of  earnest 
ness  that  it  wore  when,  as  a  child, 
she  was  intent  on  her  business  of  make- 
believe.  She  found  a  cornstalk  that  suited 
her  purpose,  stripped  off  the  blades,  and 
concealed  herself  in  the  Whish-Whish 
Woods,  holding  her  gun  in  readiness  to  make 
a  victim  of  the  first  person  that  passed 
along  the  street.  As  Providence  would 
have  it,  she  was  not  kept  waiting,  for  almost 
before  she  could  conceal  herself,  she  heard 
the  sound  of  feet.  Whoever  it  was  had 
no  idea  of  the  danger  that  awaited  him, 
for  he  was  walking  along,  whistling  softly 
to  himself,  showing  that  he  was  either  in 
high  feather,  or  seriously  uneasy  with 
respect  to  certain  plans  he  had  in  his  head. 
As  he  came  to  the  ambush,  Adelaide 
promptly  thrust  her  cornstalk  gun  for 
ward,  with  a  loud  cry  of  "bang!"  The 
result  was  as  surprising  as,  and  far  more 
embarrassing  than,  when  she  madebelieve 
to  shoot  Randall.  This  time  the  victim, 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    151 

instead  of  falling  on  the  ground  and  writh 
ing,  as  a  man  should  do  if  he  is  seriously 
wounded,  nearly  jumped  out  of  his  skin, 
crying,  "  Good  gracious ! " 

The  voice  was  strange  to  Adelaide's 
ears,  and  when  she  was  in  a  position  to  see 
her  intended  victim,  she  discovered  that 
her  innocent  joke  had  been  played  at  the 
expense  of  a  young  man  whom  she  had 
never  seen  before ;  he  was  an  utter  stranger. 
The  young  man,  glancing  back  to  see  who 
had  waylaid  him,  caught  a  glimpse  of 
Adelaide,  and  politely  raised  his  hat. 
Adelaide,  frightened  at  what  seemed  to  be 
her  boldness,  could  hardly  articulate  clearly, 
but  she  managed  to  say,  in  the  midst  of  her 
confusion  and  embarrassment,  "Oh, 
excuse  me!  I  thought — "  but  there  she 
paused. 

"So  did  I,"  said  the  young  man,  with  a 
laugh,  "and  you  are  quite  excusable." 
Adelaide  said  to  herself  that  he  was  making 
fun  of  her,  but  she  did  not  fail  to  see,  in  the 
midst  of  her  vexation  and  confusion,  that 
he  was  very  pleasant  looking.  In  short 
he  had  a  clear  eye  and  a  strong  face.  Hav- 


152    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

ing  seen  this  much,  she  gathered  her  skirts 
free  of  her  feet,  and  went  running  to  the 
house.  She  couldn  't  resist  the  temptation 
to  stop  in  the  kitchen  and  give  Lucindy 
the  story  of  her  exciting  adventure,  and 
in  the  midst  of  it,  she  paused  to  say  how 
handsome  the  young  man  was.  When  the 
narrative  was  concluded,  Adelaide  asked 
Lucindy  what  she  thought  of  it  all.  The 
old  negro  woman  must  have  had  very  deep 
thoughts,  judging  from  her  silence.  She 
asked  no  questions  and  merely  nodded  her 
head  while  Adelaide  was  talking;  and  then, 
while  the  excited  young  woman  was  waiting 
for  her  to  make  some  comment,  the  little- 
used  knocker  on  the  front  door  fell  with  a 
tremendous  whack. 

"Whosomever  it  mought  be,"  remarked 
Lucindy,  "it  look  like  dey  er  bleedze  ter  git 
in,  kaze  dey  er  breakin'  de  door  down!" 

"Oh,  I  believe  it's  the  young  man  I 
tried  to  shoot!"  cried  Adelaide  in  distress, 
"and  I  wouldn't  meet  him  again  for  the 
world !  I  wonder  where  Uncle  Jonas  is  — 
and  why  he  don't  have  a  bell  placed  on  the 
door?"  Then  the  young  woman  asked 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN     153 

with  some  indignation,  "Mammy  Lucindy, 
do  you  suppose  that  young  man  is  knocking 
at  the  door  because  I  made  a  goose  of  myself 
in  the  garden?" 

"Lawsy,  honey,"  said  Lucindy,  sooth 
ingly,  "don't  git  ter  frettin';  I'm  gwine 
ter  de  door  —  yit  I  lay  ef  you  had  been  up 
ter  yo'  neck  in  de  flour-bairl,  I  would  n't 
let  you  run  ter  de  front  door  an'  grin  at 
whomsomever  mought  be  dar!  I  lay  dat 
much." 

"But,  Mammy!  I  'm  afraid  the  person 
at  the  door  is  the  young  man  I  was  rude 
to  when  he  was  passing  the  garden.  Oh, 
I  wish  Uncle  Jonas  would  hire  a  house 
maid;  I  can't  be  running  to  the  front 
door  all  the  time." 

"I  ain't  seed  you  run  much,  honey, 
kaze  dat's  de  fust  time  dat  door-knocker 
is  bangded  in  many's  de  long  day.  You 
want  a  house-gal,  does  you?  Well,  you 
better  not  fetch  no  gal  in  dis  house  fer  ter 
make  moufs  at  me  right  'fo'  my  face.  She 
sho'  won't  last  long ;  I  tell  you  dat  right  now ! ' ' 

Lucindy  prepared  to  answer  the  sum 
mons,  but  before  she  could  wipe  the  flour 


154    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

from  her  hands,  Adelaide  changed  her 
mind.  She  said  she  would  answer  the 
knock  herself,  and,  as  she  went  into  the 
house,  Randall  came  around  the  corner 
and  went  into  the  kitchen.  He  was  some 
what  excited,  and  Lucindy  inquired  if  he 
was  ill.  "Mammy,"  he  said,  "does  you 
know  who  that  is  knockin'  at  the  door? 
Well,  it  aint  nobody  in  the  roun'  worl'  but 
ol'  Marster's  grandson ;  it 's  Miss  Betty's 
boy.  Of  all  people  on  top  of  the  ground, 
that 's  who  it  is." 

Lucindy  leaned  on  the  kitchen  table, 
and  gazed  at  Randall  in  speechless  sur 
prise.  "De  Lord  he'p  my  soul!"  she 
exclaimed  when  she  could  find  her  voice. 
"What  he  been  up  ter  dat  he  ain't  never  is 
been  here  befo'  ?  He  sholy  can't  be  much 
mo'  dan  knee-high  ter  a  puddle-duck." 
She  persisted  in  thinking  of  her  young 
mistress  as  she  had  known  her  a  quarter 
of  a  century  before.  Randall  could  tell 
her  little  beyond  the  fact  that  he  had 
"know'd  the  favour,"  and  had  spoken  to 
the  young  man  on  the  street,  asking  if  he 
were  not  kin  to  the  Bowdens. 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN     155 

This  simple  question  developed  into  a 
long  conversation,  with  the  result  that 
Randall  was  as  enthusiastic  about  Miss 
Betty's  boy  as  he  wTas  about  Miss  Betty, 
who  had  saved  his  life.  "He  sho'  have 
got  the  blood  in  'im.  He  don't  look  strong, 
like  all  de  balance  of  the  Bowdens,  but  he  's 
got  their  ways.  He  walks  an'  holds  his 
head  jest  like  Miss  Betty." 

When  Adelaide  opened  the  door,  and 
saw  standing  there  the  young  man  at 
whom  she  had  aimed  her  cornstalk  gun,  she 
was  surprised  to  find  that  she  was  not  at 
all  embarrassed.  She  had  no  idea  that 
this  particular  meeting  had  been  arranged 
and  provided  for  long  ages  ago.  But  she 
wondered  why  she  should  feel  so  cool  and 
collected,  when  she  should  be  confused 
and  blushing.  This  is  the  way  young 
women  act  in  story  books,  and  Adelaide 
had  often  longed  for  the  opportunity  to 
stammer  and  blush  when  a  strange  but 
noble  young  man  appeared  before  her; 
but  now  that  the  young  man  had  come, 
she  felt  as  if  shad  known  him  a  long, 
long  time.  He  was  the  embarrassed  one, 


156    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

while  she  observed  that  he  had  nice  brown 
eyes,  to  light  up  his  handsome  countenance, 
and  these  brown  eyes  seemed  to  be  trying 
to  apologise  for  something  or  other;  and 
all  the  time  the  young  man  was  thinking 
that  he  had  never  seen  such  beautiful  blue 
eyes  as  those  that  were  shyly  glancing  at 
him  from  under  their  long  lashes.  It  was 
a  desperate  moment  for  all  concerned,  but 
Providence  was  there,  and  laid  its  calm, 
cool  hand  on  the  situation.  The  young 
man  asked  for  Mr.  Whipple,  but  Provi 
dence  had  been  before  him,  and  Mr. 
Whipple  was  not  to  be  found  in  the  house, 
though  Adelaide  tried  hard  to  find  him, 
not  knowing  that  if  her  uncle  could  have 
been  found  just  at  that  particular  time, 
a  great  many  possibilities  would  have 
been  destroyed.  Adelaide  inquired  if  the 
brown  eyes  would  n't  come  in  and  wait 
for  Uncle  Jonas,  who  was  to  be  expected 
at  any  moment,  and  the  brown  eyes  softly 
admitted  that  nothing  would  please  them 
better  if  such  an  arrangement  were  per 
fectly  agreeable  to  everybody,  otherwise 
not  for  the  world  would  they  intrude  — 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    157 

and  then,  as  a  matter  of  course,  the  blue  eyes 
were  compelled  to  see  to  it  that  the  time  of 
waiting  would  be  made  perfectly  pleasant. 
After  awhile  the  sound  of  footsteps  was 
heard  on  the  veranda,  and  Adelaide,  with 
a  secret  regret,  declared  that  Uncle  Jonas 
must  be  coming.  But  Providence  was 
looking  out  for  the  interests  of  the  young 
fellow  with  a  keener  eye,  for  the  footsteps 
they  heard  were  those  of  Mr.  Sanders.  He 
came  in  without  knocking,  as  usual,  and 
Adelaide  ran  to  meet  him,  just  as  she 
always  did.  "You  look  as  flustrated  as 
ef  you  had  man  company,"  Mr.  Sanders 
remarked,  as  she  greeted  him.  She  slapped 
him  lightly  on  the  arm  by  way  of  warning 
and  rebuke.  "An'  I  '11  lay  I  kin  guess  his 
name:  it 's  Winters."  Adelaide  was  very 
red  in  the  face  as  she  shook  her  head. 
"Then  it's  Somers,"  he  declared;  "I 
know'd  it  was  one  of  the  seasons  that  had 
dropped  in  on  you  out  'n  season.  But 
it  happens  to  be  the  very  chap  I  'in  arter." 
He  stalked  in  to  the  sitting-sooin,  and 
shook  hands  with  young  Somers,  calling 
him  Jonah,  though  his  name  was  John. 


158    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

Then  he  casually  inquired  as  to  the 
whereabouts  of  Mr.  Jonas  Whipple,  in 
spite  of  the  fact  that  he  already  knew. 
"  You  see  how  it  is,"  he  remarked  to  the 
young  man;  "you  thought  you  wanted  to 
see  Jonas,  but  it  was  n't  Jonas  you  wanted 
to  see  at  all."  Mr.  Sanders  pursed  his 
mouth,  and  stared  at  the  ceiling.  The 
remark  he  had  made  was  interpreted  by 
Adelaide  in  a  way  he  had  not  intended,  but 
she  was  quite  equal  to  the  emergency. 

"Well,  Mr.  Sanders,"  she  inquired  with 
great  dignity,  "whom  did  Mr.  Somers  desire 
to  see?" 

He  turned  a  bland  and  childlike  smile 
upon  her.  "Why,  he  wanted  to  see  me,  of 
course.  Who  else  could  it  'a'  been?" 
Adelaide's  dignity  was  not  made  of  the 
strongest  stuff,  and  she  was  compelled  to 
laugh.  "I  understood  him  to  inquire  for 
Uncle  Jonas,"  she  said  simply,  "but  I 
may  have  been  mistaken." 

"No;  I  really  want  to  see  Mr.  Whipple," 
the  young  man  insisted.  "That  is  my 
business  here." 

Mr.  Sanders  beamed  upon  him  with  a 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    159 

smile  that  was  as  broad  and  sweet  as  a 
slice  of  pie.  "I  've  allers  took  notice,"  he 
remarked,  "  that  wimmen  an'  children,  an' 
young  folks  in  gener'l,  will  ax  for  the 
identical  things  they  ought  not  to  have. 
They  're  made  that-a-way,  I  reckon." 

In  a  little  while  the  young  man  bowed 
himself  out,  followed  by  Mr.  Sanders. 
"You  young  fellers  worry  me  no  little," 
remarked  the  Sage  of  Shady  Dale,  as 
they  went  along  the  street  together.  "I 
happen  to  know  about  the  business  that 
fetched  you  here,  an'  I  mighty  nigh  swal- 
lered  my  goozle  when  I  seed  you  makin' 
for  Jonas's." 

"Well,  I  really  thought  Mr.  Whipple 
was  the  proper  person  to  see.  I  was  told 
that  he  held  the  key  to  the  situation," 
young  Somers  replied. 

Mr.  Sanders  smiled  benignly.  "Old 
Jonas  has  been  seed  an'  he  's  been  saw'd," 
said  the  elder  man  so  drolly  that  Somers 
laughed  outright.  "I  reckon  you  've  been 
to  college,  ain't  you  ?  I  'lowed  as  much. 
The  trainin'  is  all  right,  but  you  '11  have 
to  fergit  a  heap  you  've  Tarned  ef  you 


160    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

want  travellin'  for  to  be  easy.  Old  as  I 
am,  I  wish  I  had  some  of  your  knowledge, 
but  if  you  was  to  put  it  all  in  a  hamper 
basket  an'  gi'  me  the  right  to  paw  it  over, 
you  'd  be  surprised  at  what  I  Jd  pick  out. 
My  experience  is  that  when  a  feller  gits 
through  college,  an'  begins  for  to  face  the 
hard  propositions  that  he  ain't  never  thought 
about,  he  allers  takes  a  notion  that  some- 
thin's  wrong  somewhar. 

"I  reckon  maybe  you've  got  the  idee 
that  argyment,  ef  it' s  got  all  the  facts 
behind  it,  is  the  thing  that 's  bound  for  to 
win,  an'  you  '11  have  to  git  bumped  by  a 
barnyard  full  of  billy-goats  before  you 
find  out  that  nineteen-hundred  squar'  miles 
on  'em  ain't  wuth  one  little  inch  of  per 
suasion.  It 's  all  right  in  the  books,  whar 
they  1'arn  you  how  to  think  an'  put  up  a 
nice  article  of  argyment,  but  it  don't  work 
in  reel  life.  You  can't  carry  none  of  your 
p'ints  wi'out  doin'  some  mighty  purty 
dancin'  on  t'other  side  of  the  line.  Now 
I  've  saved  you  from  one  of  the  wust 
bumpin's  that  a  young  feller  ever  had, 
and  the  beauty  about  it  is  you  '11  never  have 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    161 

a  suspicion  of  it  ontel  you  're  old  enough 
for  to  have  grandchildren.  It  '11  not  hurt 
you  for  to  hit  some  of  the  rough  places  as 
you  go  slidin'  through  this  vale  of  tears, 
but  it  '11  never  do  you  any  reel  good  for  to 
climb  four  flights  of  sta'rs  an'  then  jump 
out'n  the  top  window  when  you  want  to 
come  down." 

"I  should  think  that  even  a  fool  would 
know  that,"  the  young  man  declared. 

"Well,  some  on  'em  don't,"  responded 
Mr.  Sanders.  "Thar's  diffunt  kinds  of 
fools,  an'  diffunt  kinds  of  houses,  an' 
heap  higher  jumps,  an'  you  'd  'a'  had  the 
experience  of  it  ef  you  'd  'a'  found  old 
Jonas  at  home.  The  next  time  you  go  thar 
don't  ax  for  him.  Call  for  Adelaide  — 
call  for  Lucindy  the  cook  (she  use'  to  belong 
to  your  Gran'daddy  Bowden)  —  call  for 
Randall  —  call  for  any  an'  ever'body  but 
old  Jonas." 

"But  what  am  I  to  do?"  the  young 
man  inquired  somewhat  impatiently.  "It 
seems  that  I  may  as  well  go  back  to  Malvern 
or  Atlanta ;  and  when  I  do  that,  I  '11  have 
to  hunt  for  another  job." 


162    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

Mr.  Sanders  hummed  a  tune,  and 
apparently  paid  no  attention  to  the  young 
man's  last  remark.  "Old  Jonas  is  mighty 
quar',"  he  said  after  a  pause.  "When 
his  sister  died  up  thar  in  Atlanta,  you 
could  n't  'a'  told  from  the  motions  he  made 
that  he'd  hearn  the  mournful  news;  but 
sence  he  's  had  for  to  take  keer  of  Adelaide, 
her  daughter,  his  gizzard  has  kinder  soft 
ened  up.  Why,  that  man  thinks  that  the 
sun  rises  an'  sets  whar  Adelaide  lives  at." 

"Well,"  said  the  young  fellow,  "she 
certainly  is  charming;  I  don't  think  I  ever 
met  a  young  lady  that  so  impressed  me." 

"Forty  years  from  now  you  '11  be  able 
for  to  say  the  same  thing,"  remarked  Mr. 
Sanders.  "Well,  as  I  was  a-tellin'  you, 
old  Jonas  ain't  nigh  as  mean  as  he  looks 
to  be,  but  when  I  found  out  that  he  reely 
had  a  heart,  you  mought  'a'  knocked  me 
down  wi'  a  feather.  It  was  the  time  your 
gran'daddy  died.  Why,  Jonas  walked  the 
floor  all  night  long.  That  much  I  know 
bekaze  I  seed  it  wi'  my  own  eyes.  An' 
then  thar's  that  nigger  Randall  —  thar 
ain't  no  tellin'  how  much  Jonas  has  done 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    163 

for  him,  nor  how  much  he  will  do.  But 
when  it  comes  to  makin'  a  fuss,  Jonas  ain't 
in  it.  He 's  too  hard-headed  for  to  let 
people  know  him  as  he  is.  Now,  don't 
think  I  'm  doin'  any  obiturary  work,  bekaze 
the  fact  is  old  Jonas  ain't  a  bit  better  than 
he  ought  to  be.  I  reckon,  he  is  too  hard- 
headed  for  to  let  people  know  him  as  he 
is,  but  the  fact  is  that  old  Jonas  is  human; 
he  ain't  a  bit  better  than  the  rest  on  us  — 
an'  he  may  be  wuss  in  some  spots.  Ef 
you  've  ever  took  notice,  the  people  between 
the  best  man  in  the  world  an'  the  wust, 
make  a  purty  fa'r  average.  I  reckon," 
Mr.  Sanders  went  on,  regarding  Somers 
with  a  child-like  smile,  "I  reckon  you 
ain't  never  played  poker  as  a  habit?" 

"Not  as  a  habit,"  replied  the  young  man, 
laughing 

"Well,  the  hand  I've  dealt  to  you  is 
known  as  a  royal  straight  flush,  an'  it  sweeps 
ever' thing  before  it.  Look  it  over  when 
you  git  time,  an'  ef  anybody  calls  you,  jes 
spread  out  the  kyards  on  the  table,  an'  ax 
'em  what  they  think  of  the  lay-out." 

"I  don't  think  I  know  what  you  mean," 


164    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

said  the  young  man,  with  some  show  of 
embarrassment. 

"Maybe  not,"  replied  Mr.  Sanders, 
"but  I  leave  it  to  you  ef  that 's  my  fault; 
I  've  dealt  you  the  hand,  an'  ef  you  dunno 
how  to  play  it,  you  can't  blame  me.  I  see 
Tidwell  across  yander,  an'  I  want  to  have 
a  talk  wi'  him;  maybe  he  '11  loan  me  his 
pocket-han'kcher.  So-long!" 

Young  Somers  went  to  his  room  in  the 
tavern  and  pondered  long  over  the  problem 
that  Mr.  Sanders  had  presented  with  con 
fident  smiles.  He  tried  to  think  it  out, 
but,  somehow,  he  could  think  of  nothing 
but  a  laughing  face,  dimpled  and  sweet, 
blue  eyes  and  golden  hair,  and  lovely  white 
hands  lifted  in  eloquent  gesture.  He  could 
concentrate  all  the  powers  of  his  mind  on 
these,  and  he  could  think  a  little,  just  a 
little,  of  the  wonderful  personality  of  Mr. 
Sanders,  who  had  persisted  in  remaining 
a  boy,  in  spite  of  his  years  and  large 
experience,  but  so  far  as  puzzles  and 
problems  were  concerned,  his  mind  refused 
to  work. 

It  was  the  same  the  next  day,  and  the 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    165 

next.  He  walked  about  the  little  town 
by  way  of  recreation,  but  by  far  the  largest 
part  of  his  time  was  spent  in  his  room  at 
the  tavern.  On  the  morning  of  the  third 
day  of  his  stay  in  Shady  Dale,  he  con 
cluded  to  visit  the  old  place  where  his 
grandfather  had  lived,  and  where  his  mother 
was  born.  Of  the  whereabouts  of  the  place 
he  had  not  the  slightest  idea,  though  he 
knew  it  was  about  a  mile  from  the  centre 
of  the  town.  While  he  was  debating 
whether  or  no  he  should  wander  about  and 
try  to  find  it  for  himself,  or  whether  he 
should  make  inquiries  as  to  the  direction, 
he  heard  the  rustle  of  skirts  behind  him. 
Turning  he  beheld  his  vision  of  blue  eyes 
and  golden  hair.  This,  however,  was  the 
reality.  The  young  fellow  had  a  queer 
notion,  momentary  but  vivid,  that  some 
where  or  somehow,  in  some  dim,  mysterious 
region  under  the  stars,  he  had  come  sud 
denly  upon  this  same  experience,  under 
precisely  the  same  conditions  —  and  the 
thought  gave  him  a  thrill  the  like  of  which 
he  had  never  felt  before  —  the  kind  of 
thrill  that,  as  Mr.  Sanders  once  suggested, 


166    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

makes  you  think  that  you  Ve  clerked  in  a 
dry-goods  store  in  some  other  world. 

Blue  eyes  and  dimples  were  very  gracious. 
"You  left  too  soon  the  other  day,"  they 
declared;  "Uncle  Jonas  came  in  shortly 
after  you  went  away,  and  you  were  hardly 
out  of  the  house  before  one  of  your  mother's 
old  servants  came  in  to  see  you.  It  was 
Mammy  Lucindy,  our  cook,  and  she  was  very 
much  disappointed  to  find  you  had  gone." 

"I  'm  sorry,"  the  young  fellow  said,  and 
he  was  so  emphatic,  and  so  serious,  that 
Adelaide  laughed.  "I  have  heard  my 
mother  speak  of  Lucindy  and  her  son 
Randall." 

"When  Uncle  Jonas  came  in,"  remarked 
Adelaide,  "I  told  him  you  had  called. 
He  frowned  and  said  he  supposed  you 
wanted  to  see  him  on  business;  but  I 
suggested  that  perhaps  you  had  called 
because  you  were  Judge  Bowden's  grand 
son.  He  declared  you  had  never  thought 
of  such  a  thing;  but  the  possibility  that 
you  might  have  had  such  a  thought  pleased 
him  greatly.  I  don't  know  when  I  have 
seen  him  in  such  high  good  humour." 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    167 

They  were  walking  along  as  they  talked, 
and  the  young  man  made  a  mental  note  of 
old  Jonas's  pleasure.  The  sun  was  shining 
brightly,  the  air  was  fresh  and  cool,  the  jay 
birds  in  the  China  trees  were  hilarious,  and, 
somehow,  or  other,  the  two  young  people 
felt  very  happy  as  they  walked  along.  They 
had  no  particular  reason  for  their  happi 
ness,  but  they  seemed  to  be  in  the  atmos 
phere  in  which  happiness  arises  like  the 
sparkling  dew  of  early  morning.  A  deaf 
old  lady  sitting  on  her  piazza,  on  the  oppo 
site  side  of  the  street,  smiled  sweetly  at 
Adelaide,  and  held  her  trumpet  to  her  ear, 
as  if,  by  means  of  its  echoing  depths,  she 
could  hear  what  the  laughing  young  woman 
was  saying.  Adelaide  did  have  something 
to  say,  evidently  —  something  that  an  ear- 
trumpet  could  not  interpret  across  the  wide 
street,  for  she  made  a  little  gesture  with  her 
head,  which  her  companion  failed  to  see, 
and  she  sent  some  signal  whirling  through 
the  air  by  means  of  a  fluttering  white  hand. 
This  signal  he  did  see,  but  he  was  unfamiliar 
with  the  code  that  prevails  among  women- 
kind  the  world  over:  yet  he  had  no  difficulty 


168    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

in  taking  it  to  be  an  ordinary  salutation, 
especially  as  the  smiling  old  lady  waved  the 
trumpet  around  her  head  with  an  air  of 
triumph.  Still  there  was  something  in  it 
all  that  seemed  to  be  a  trifle  beyond  him  — 
and  from  the  feminine  point  of  view  it  was 
a  neat  and  pretty  piece  of  work. 

He  had  small  opportunity  to  give  the 
matter  any  thought,  for  Adelaide,  laughing, 
turned  toward  him,  and  began  to  speak  of 
the  affection  her  Uncle  Jonas  had  felt  for 
Judge  Bowden,  and  the  high  esteem  in 
which  he  held  the  judge's  memory.  She 
acknowledged  that  it  was  very  queer  that  a 
man  long  dead  should  play  a  living  part  in 
her  uncle's  thoughts,  but  she  explained  that 
people  had  wrong  ideas  about  her  uncle. 
"They  seem  to  think,"  she  declared,  "that 
Uncle  Jonas  is  very  mean  and  stingy,  and 
hard-hearted;  but  if  they  knew  him  as  well 
as  I  do,  they  would  think  differently." 

The  young  fellow  would  have  protested, 
but  Adelaide  stopped  him  with  a  dignified 
wave  of  her  versatile  white  hand.  "I 
know  what  people  say,"  she  insisted.  "Mr. 
Sanders  tells  me,  and  so  does  Randall, 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN     169 

whose  life  was  saved  by  your  mother;  they 
tell  me  everything  that  is  said  about  Uncle 
Jonas.  And  I  always  tell  him  about  it, 
but  he  does  n't  seem  to  care ;  he  laughs  as 
if  it  were  a  good  joke,  and  declares  that 
people  have  more  sense  than  he  has  been 
willing  to  credit  them  with.  Really,  I 
believe  he  likes  it,  but  it  is  not  at  all  agree 
able  to  me." 

Young  Somers  hardly  knew  what  to  say; 
he  had  heard  old  Jonas  described  as  the 
meanest  man  in  twenty  states,  and  the  pro 
moters  of  the  railway  enterprise  who  had 
sent  him  to  Shady  Dale  were  not  at  all 
backward  in  expressing  their  opinion  of  the 
man  who  was  causing  them  so  much  unneces 
sary  trouble  and  delay.  So  he  walked  on  in 
silence  for  awhile.  Then:  "Speaking  of  my 
grandfather,  I  was  just  on  the  point  of 
inquiring  about  the  old  place,  but  when  you 
made  your  appearance  just  now,  dropping 
out  of  the  sky,  I  forgot  all  about  it.  I 
should  like  very  much  to  see  the  home  where 
my  mother  was  born,  and  where  my  grand 
father  was  born  and  died.  I  have  heard 
my  mother  talk  about  Shady  Dale  and  about 


170    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

the  old  home-place  ever  since  I  could  under 
stand  what  she  said.  I  remember,  when  I 
was  a  child,  that  I  had  a  queer  idea  that  the 
town  was  shaped  like  a  bowl  or  saucer;  all 
the  good  people  that  chanced  to  come  by 
stumbled  and  fell  in,  there  to  remain,  and 
all  the  bad  people  crawled  over  the  rim 
and  fell  out;  and  I  could  n't  help  having  a 
feeling  of  disappointment  when  I  found  that 
Shady  Dale  is  very  much  like  other  towns." 

"Now,  don't  say  that!"  protested  Ade 
laide.  "I  have  seen  a  great  many  towns, 
but  never  one  like  this  —  not  one  as  pretty." 

"  Why,  in  North  Carolina "  the  young 

fellow  began,  but  Adelaide  interrupted 
him  with  a  laugh  so  genuine  and  unaffected 
that  it  was  delightful  to  hear.  Yet,  in  spite 
of  the  fact  that  he  enjoyed  the  rippling 
sound,  he  felt  his  face  turning  red.  'You 
think  North  Carolina  is  a  joke,"  he  went  on, 
"but  you  would  be  surprised  to  know  what 
a  great  state  it  is." 

"I  was  laughing  at  one  of  Mr.  Sanders's 
jokes,"  said  Adelaide,  still  smiling.  "  Once 
there  was  a  tobacco  peddler  came  here 
driving  a  big  covered  waggon.  Mr.  Sanders 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    171 

discovered  he  was  from  North  Carolina, 
and  shook  hands  with  him  very  cordially, 
and  asked  about  a  great  many  people  he 
never  heard  of.  The  tobacco  man  said 
they  must  have  moved  away,  but  Mr. 
Sanders  said  he  thought  not,  for  the  reason 
that  the  only  three  North  Carolinians  he 
ever  saw  that  were  able  to  settle  at  the  toll- 
gates  and  ferries,  made  their  way  straight 
to  Alabama,  and  formed  a  business  firm. 
He  said  the  name  of  this  firm  was  'Tar, 
Pitch,  and  Turkentime'  —  that 's  the  way 
he  pronounced  the  names.  The  tobacco 
man  did  n't  get  angry;  he  laughed  as 
loudly  as  anybody,  and  Uncle  Jonas  says 
that  was  because  he  was  n't  conceited." 

Here  Adelaide  paused;  she  had  come  to 
the  house  of  the  friend  she  proposed  to 
visit,  and  from  the  gate  she  pointed  out  the 
trees  that  grew  so  abundantly  on  the  Bow- 
den  place,  and  her  attitude  seemed  to  say 
to  the  young  man  that  should  he  get  lost,  he 
would  be  safe  so  long  as  she  was  within 
calling  distance.  He  had  been  used  to 
more  dignity  and  less  charm  on  the  part  of 
most  of  the  young  women  he  knew,  and  he 


172    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

rather  preferred  the  variety  which  he  had 
now  come  in  contact  with  for  the  first  'time. 
And  yet,  when  he  came  to  the  old  homestead, 
where  his  grandfather  lived  and  died,  and 
where  his  mother  was  born,  he  was  attacked 
by  none  of  the  emotions  that  would  have 
seized  upon  the  soul  of  his  mother.  He 
had  been  educated  in  a  different  environ 
ment,  and  he  was  essentially  modern  in  his 
sense  of  the  importance  of  business  affairs. 
As  he  read  the  friendly  inscription  on  the 
tomb  of  his  grandfather  —  the  family  bury- 
ing-ground  being  not  far  from  the  pictur 
esquely  simple  old  house — he  was  conscious 
of  a  strong  desire  to  know  whether  failure 
or  success  would  crown  his  negotiations 
with  Mr.  Jonas  Whipple. 

The  vagrant  winds  blew  through  the  tops 
of  trees  more  than  two  centuries  old,  the 
house  frowned  grimly  over  the  reminis 
cences  of  past  hospitality,  and  the  whole 
scene  appealed  strongly  to  sentiments  that 
are  now  said  not  to  be  strictly  scientific. 
But  it  must  not  be  supposed  that  the  young 
man  had  no  poetry  in  his  soul,  or  that  his 
nature  was  free  from  emotions  of  a  senti- 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    173 

mental  character.  He  lived  entirely  in  the 
present,  and  the  past  had  no  meaning  for 
him  save  that  which  was  coldly  historical. 
He  found  his  inspiration  in  the  rhythmical 
clatter  and  cackle  of  intricate  machinery; 
he  was  stirred  by  the  interweaving  and 
interlacing  business  problems,  and  the  whole 
movement,  shape,  and  pattern  of  huge 
commercial  enterprises. 

Nor  was  this  a  misfortune.  Being 
modern  and  practical,  he  was  wholly  free 
from  the  entanglements  and  misconceptions 
of  prejudices  that  had  outlived  the  issues 
that  gave  rise  to  them;  and  he  went  about 
his  business  with  a  mind  at  once  clear,  clean, 
and  cheerful,  bearing  the  signal  of  hope  on 
his  forehead.  As  he  walked  about  the  old 
place,  it  was  characteristic  of  him,  that  he 
should  be  seeking  the  solution  of  the  puzzle 
which  Mr.  Sanders  had  placed  before  him 
in  the  shape  of  a  "royal  straight  flush," 
but  in  a  matter  of  this  kind,  his  mathematics 
availing  him  nothing :  nor  did  it  occur  to  him 
that  the  solution  was  to  be  found  somewhere 
in  the  region  from  which  the  nations  of  the 
world  draw  their  not  over-abundant  supplies 


174    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

of  poetical  metaphor.  After  an  interval 
which  he  deemed  seemly  and  proper,  he 
turned  his  steps  in  the  direction  whence  he 
had  come.  The  street  being  straight  as 
well  as  wide,  afforded  a  fine  perspective 
of  sun  and  shade,  to  say  nothing  of  the  sand. 
As  he  went  on,  he  walked  more  and  more 
rapidly,  so  that  he  could  have  been  accused 
of  fleeing  from  the  ghosts  of  his  ancestors; 
but  the  propelling  influence  was  the  sight  of 
Adelaide,  who,  having  completed  her 
morning  call,  was  emerging  from  the  gate 
way  that  led  to  the  house  of  her  friend. 
She  was  for  moving  on,  but  seemed  suddenly 
to  remember  about  the  young  man.  Turn 
ing,  she  saw  him  coming,  and  waited, 
sauntering  slowly,  her  mind  full  of  a  swarm 
of  thoughts  that  had  been  fighting  for  its 
possession  since  she  first  saw  him. 

"  The  sight  of  your  mother's  old  home 
does  n't  seem  to  have  saddened  you,"  she 
remarked,  as  he  came  up. 

"No,"  he  replied,  "but  that  is  because  I 
have  no  refreshing  memory  of  the  old  place. 
All  my  ideas  about  it  are  second  hand;  and 
besides,  it  seems  to  be  a  very  cheerful  place. 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    175 

I  imagine  that  the  soil  round  about  is  still 
fertile." 

"I  never  thought  of  that,"  she  answered; 
"but  men  are  always  more  practical  than 
women.  In  your  place,  I  should  have 
searched  over  the  old  homestead  for  the 
favourite  walks  of  my  grandfather;  and  I 
should  have  known,  before  I  came  away, 
where  my  mother  ran,  and  hid  herself 
when  her  feelings  wrere  hurt;  and  where 
she  played  with  her  dolls,  and  just  how  she 
did  when  she  was  a  little  bit  of  a  girl." 

The  young  man  had  an  uneasy  idea  that 
Adelaide  was  poking  fun  at  him,  but  her 
face  was  so  grave  that  he  dismissed  the  idea, 
and  it  was  then  that  he  felt  himself  stirred 
by  a  dim  conception  of  the  region  in  which 
the  thoughts  of  this  beautiful  young  woman 
wandered  and  ranged. 

"What  I  was  really  thinking  of  all  the 
time,"  he  said,  with  a  laugh  that  somehow 
conveyed  a  regret  that  his  thoughts  were  on 
a  plane  so  much  lower  than  hers,  "was  how 
I  shall  prevail  on  your  uncle  to  convey  to 
the  railway  company  a  right  of  way  through 
his  land.  It  means  a  great  deal  to  me." 


176    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

"  Oh,  that  is  why  you  are  here ! "  exclaimed 
Adelaide.  "Well,  I  was  wondering."  She 
regarded  him  very  seriously  for  a  moment 
and  he  felt  that  he  had  fallen  a  notch  in  her 
estimation.  "If  you  '11  take  my  advice," 
she  said,  "you  will  leave  the  whole  affair 
to  Randall." 

"But  how  can  I?  Randall  is  a  negro. 
I  'm  sure  I  don't  understand  what  you 
mean!"  His  pride,  his  self-esteem,  had 
been  wounded  to  the  very  core,  and  his 
face  was  very  red. 

"Yes,  leave  it  to  Randall  and  Mr.  San 
ders,"  Adelaide  replied,  "and  you'd  not 
lose  anything  if  you  could  manage  to 
introduce  the  ghost  of  your  grandfather." 
This  was  said  airily,  but  it  had  far  more 
meaning  that  young  Somers  was  able  to 
read  into  it. 

"I  never  saw  just  such  a  place  as  this 
is,"  he  remarked  somewhat  petulantly, 
"where  the  people  can  only  help  you 
along  by  means  of  riddles  and  parables 
and  jokes.  Mr.  Sanders  tells  me  to  say 
nothing  to  your  uncle  about  the  business 
on  which  I  have  been  sent.  And  then  he 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    177 

says  that  I  already  have  a  royal  straight 
flush  in  my  hand.  What  am  I  to  infer  from 
that?" 

Young  Somers,  without  intending  it, 
revealed  the  essential  boyishness  of  his 
nature,  and  Adelaide  relished  it  immensely. 
"You  are  to  infer  just  what  he  intended  you 
should,"  she  declared.  "The  jokes  of  Mr. 
Sanders  mean  a  great  deal  more  than 
another  man's  wisdom.  You  '11  discover 
that  for  yourself  when  you  come  to  know 
him  well." 

"But  you  can't  do  business  by  means  of 
jokes,"  the  young  fellow  protested. 

"That's  the  way  Mr.  Sanders  transacts 
his  business,"  Adelaide  responded,  "and 
he  's  a  very  prosperous  man.  As  for  your 
grandfather's  ghost,  Uncle  Jonas  will  raise 
it  if  you  give  him  half  an  opportunity. 
You  '11  learn  a  great  deal  from  Mr.  Sanders 
and  Uncle  Jonas  if  you  stay  here  long 
enough."  The  expression  of  her  face  was 
demureness  itself,  but  the  blue  eyes  sparkled 
with  humour. 

Now,  young  Somers  was  neither  slow  nor 
dull,  but  the  peculiar  atmosphere  he  found 


178    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

at  Shady  Dale  was  something  new  in  his 
experience,  and  he  was  compelled  to  tunnel 
through  it  before  he  could  clearly  under 
stand  it.  His  business  training,  as  far  as 
it  had  gone,  and  all  his  business  associations, 
had  accustomed  him  to  methods  of  proced 
ure  that  were  not  only  direct,  but  blunt. 
He  never  went  around  obstacles  but  through 
or  over  them.  But  he  knew,  after  giving 
the  matter  some  consideration,  and  after 
discovering  that  the  ordinary  commercial 
and  cold-blooded  methods  would  be  useless 
here,  that  he  would  have  to  enter  into  the 
spirit  of  the  place.  He  was  a  very  attrac 
tive  young  man  when  at  his  best,  and  he 
made  himself  more  attractive  than  ever  by 
acquiring  a  quick  sympathy  for  the  things 
that  interested  the  sincere  and  simple  people 
about  him. 

He  had  several  long  talks  with  Mr. 
Sanders,  during  which  he  never  once  men 
tioned  business  nor  anything  relating 
thereto.  Instead,  he  seemed  to  be  very 
much  interested  in  Adelaide  and  her 
personality,  her  nature  and  individuality. 
On  this  subject  Mr.  Sanders  was  eloquent. 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    179 

He  could  discourse  on  it  for  hours,  and  was 
only  humorous  when  he  wanted  to  make 
people  believe  he  was  in  earnest.  He  told 
Somers  all  about  Cally-Lou,  and  asked  the 
young  man  what  he  thought  about  the  child 
that  was  a  little  more  than  make-believe, 
and  yet  remained  on  the  very  verge  of 
visibility.  Now,  the  young  man  was  very 
practical;  circumstances  had  made  him  so. 
His  spirit  had  had  so  little  exercise,  his 
dreams  remained  so  persistently  on  the 
hither  side  of  concrete  things,  he  was  so 
completely  invested  with  the  cold  and  critical 
views  that  were  the  result  of  his  education, 
that  his  mind  never  ventured  much  beyond 
his  material  interests,  and  he  never  tried  to 
peep  around  the  many  corners  that  life 
presents  to  a  curious  and  sincere  observer. 
Consequently,  he  was  all  at  sea,  as  the  say 
ing  is,  when  Mr.  Sanders  told  him  about 
Cally-Lou.  He  thought  it  was  some  form 
of  a  new  joke,  and  he  would  have  had  a 
hearty  laugh  had  the  old  philosopher  given 
him  the  wink. 

But  the  wink  was  not  forthcoming.     On 
the   contrary,   much  to   the  young   man's 


180    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

surprise,  Mr.  Sanders  appeared  to  be  very 
serious.  But  the  young  man  was  as  frank 
as  it  is  possible  for  a  youngster  to  be.  "I  '11 
be  honest  with  you,  Mr.  Sanders,"  he  said. 
"I  don't  know  a  thing  about  such  matters. 
If  I  were  not  in  Shady  Dale,  where  every 
thing  seems  to  be  so  different,  I  would  say 
at  once  that  you  are  talking  nonsense  — 
that  you  are  trying  to  play  some  kind  of  a 
practical  joke  —  but,  as  it  is,  I  don't  know 
what  to  think." 

When  the  young  man  said  that  every 
thing  is  different  in  Shady  Dale,  he  meant 
that  Adelaide  was  different,  and  Mr. 
Sanders  knew  it;  so  he  said,  "When  you 
git  so  that  you  kin  mighty  nigh  see  Cally- 
Lou,  you  '11  be  wuth  lookin'  at  twice." 

Somers  took  this  more  seriously  than  he 
would  have  taken  it  twenty-four  hours 
previously  —  and  he  carried  it  to  the  tavern 
with  him,  and  thought  it  over  a  long  time; 
and  then,  as  if  that  were  not  sufficient,  he 
carried  it  to  the  Bowden  place  in  the  dusk 
of  the  evening,  and  worried  with  it  until  he 
had  no  difficulty  in  discovering  where  his 
grandfather  had  walked,  and  where  his 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN    181 

mother  had  hid  herself  when  her  feelings 
were  hurt,  and  where  she  had  played  with 
her  dolls. 

The  experience  helped  him  in  many  \vays, 
so  much  that  when  Adelaide  saw  him  only 
a  few  hours  later  she  exclaimed,  "Why, 
how  wrell  you  are  looking!  Our  climate 
must  be  fine  to  make  such  a  change  in  you." 
And  Mr.  Sanders —  "  Well,  well!  ef  you 
stay  here  long,  you  '11  turn  out  to  be  a  purty 
nice  lookin'  chap.  The  home  air  is  mighty 
good  for  folks,  so  I  've  been  told."  And, 
somehow  or  other,  without  further  explana 
tion,  the  young  fellow  knew  \vhat  Mr. 
Sanders  had  meant  by  his  talk  about  the 
"royal  straight  flush."  When  he  called  on 
old  Jonas,  he  went  as  the  grandson  of  Judge 
Bowden,  and  not  as  the  agent  of  the  pro 
moter  of  the  new  railway,  and  endeavoured 
to  learn  everything  that  the  old  man  knew 
about  his  grandfather. 

Mr.  Sanders  joined  the  two  before  they 
had  been  conversing  very  long,  and  he  was 
surprised,  as  well  as  pleased,  to  find  how 
completely  old  Jonas  had  thawed  out. 
There  was  not  a  fro  win  on  his  face,  and, 


182    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

on  occasion,  he  laughed  heartily  over  some 
incident  that  his  memory  drew  from  the 
past.  And,  presently,  Adelaide  glided  in 
from  the  innermost  recesses  of  the  house, 
and  sat  near  her  uncle.  She  was  a  charm 
ing  addition,  and  a  most  interesting  one, 
for  she  was  able  to  remind  old  Jonas  of 
many  things  he  had  told  her  about  the  dead 
judge.  Mr.  Sanders,  not  to  be  outdone, 
contributed  some  of  his  own  reminiscences, 
so  that  the  evening  became  a  sort  of  memorial 
of  a  good  man  who  had  long  passed  away. 

When  the  visitors  were  going  away, 
Adelaide  accompanied  them  to  the  door, 
and  went  with  them  on  the  veranda.  Before 
Mr.  Sanders  could  say  good-bye,  she 
caught  him  by  his  sleeve  —  "Do  you 
remember  what  I  told  you  the  other  day  ? 
Well,  she  has  returned." 

"What  did  she  say?"  he  inquired,  his 
finger  on  his  chin.  Adelaide  blushed,  but 
no  one  could  see  her  embarrassment. 
"Why,  she  says  that  everything  looks  a 
great  deal  better  by  lamplight." 

Young  Somers  heard  the  conversation, 
but  kept  on  moving  away.  "Did  you  hear 


THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN     183 

that?"  inquired  Mr.  Sanders,  as  he  over 
took  the  other.  "She  was  talking  about 
Cally-Lou.  It  seems  she  run  away  the  day 
you  showed  your  face  here,  and  now  she  's 
come  back."  And  further  than  that,  the 
Sage  of  Shady  Dale  said  not  a  word.  But 
the  next  day,  he  met  the  young  fellow  on 
the  street,  and  gave  him  a  congratulatory 
slap  on  the  back.  "You  showed  up  purty 
strong,  sonny;  an'  now  that  you  've  dis- 
kiver'd  for  yourself  that  thar's  a  whole  lot 
of  ingineerin'  that 's  nuther  civil  nor 
mechanical,  an'  that  aint  got  a  thing  in  the 
world  to  do  wi'  figgers,  you  '11  manage  to  git 
along  ruther  better  than  you  thought  — 
in  fact,  mighty  nigh  fustrate. 
"But  don't  fergit  Cally-Lou!" 
And  the  young  fellow  did  get  along  first- 
rate  in  more  ways  than  one.  The  railroad 
was  allowed  to  run  right  through  old  Jonas's 
land,  and  when  it  was  completed  there  was 
nothing  to  do  but  to  celebrate  the  event  by 
a  marriage,  in  which  the  young  man  was 
aided  and  abetted  by  Adelaide.  Then 
when  everything  had  settled  down,  he  took 
hold  of  Randall's  water-power  and  furnished 


184    THE  BISHOP  AND  THE  BOOGERMAN 

lights  for  the  town,  and  power  for  two  or 
three  mills  in  which  Mr.  Sanders  was  inter 
ested.  I  think  this  is  all,  but  if  you  are  in 
doubt  about  it,  and  want  to  find  out 
something  more,  just  enclose  a  stamp  to 
William  H.  Sanders,  Esq.,  Shady  Dale, 
Georgia. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
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